The Resilient Captain Emerges

I don’t want there to be questions left when I die. I don’t want there to be what if’s. What could I have done? How could I have made a change? 

The turning point came in 2023. 

It seemed death would not stop. That year, a coworker and good friend of mine committed suicide. 

After he died, I couldn’t stop seeing his face moments before his fatal decision was made. It tormented me for countless days. I couldn’t sleep, eat, or function. I walked around out of sorts with myself. I even got tattoos inspired by him, covering the scars on my arm. It was a resilient soldier heading into battle and a raging madman leaving by his own will, knowing no one else could take him down.

The grief was overwhelming. And often I was ashamed of it. I kept it inside while trying to appear strong. But those around me felt it leaking out.  

I got so sick of it. I could see what it was doing to the people around me. I could see what it was doing to myself. It was sad. I was watching myself die slowly, and I was watching the people around me have to deal with that.

I finally hit the bottom that I thought didn’t exist. My pain fueled a rage so intense that it finally forced me to see where I was. 

It was only then that I could turn around the pain and mold it into this new me. 

I saw that it is the little things that make life what it is. It’s a journey. I finally understood the need to embrace it all. The good, the bad, and the grief, because it will always be there. After I finally sobered up and opened up, I started to remember things and look at things differently.

Through the pain of this latest loss, I could appreciate what this man had done before he took his life and who he was. 

He was methodical. He used his fire to get people going. He motivated them like a thorn in their side. He embraced his rage. 

This death was different for me. Before, grief had me sunken, had me running from myself, from my mail, bills, responsibility, and accountability. But this time, it motivated me, along with strong support at home, to catch up and fix these things. Most importantly, it motivated me to move differently. 

I decided to channel this pain. I cleaned my shit up. Picked myself up off the ground. Now, I gather my demons around me at this computer, and I write for a purpose. I push my limit to the point where I’m on the edge of a manic state, sitting in this room so I can be real and raw for this. I want you to see the truth. There are great days and there are awful ones. I don’t sleep a lot. It used to be because of terrors, but now it’s because of excitement.

I am driven. I have channeled my rage into something beautiful. I have embraced the rage. (I hope you can too) That rage has shown me what I needed to see. Now I know my worth. I am a fucking warrior. Every drop of blood I spilled was not wasted. Every silent scream unheard was loud enough to rock my soul and mold me into this. It turned me into a force of nature that is compassionate, caring, and giving. Someone who can change so many lives and lead so many people out of their darkness in unison. 

I wrote in my last article that I attempted suicide 5 times. Add to that the three times I died from the death of friends, and I have just one more life to live. Then, I’m done. I have no more. 

The only way to move is through to the very end. So let us embrace the rage and rise for the fallen. 

You’re going to continuously lose people and things in your life. That no man can stop. What we can do is figure out how to manage it without going off the deep end. What we can do is figure out how to be here for each other.

As my former coach, Mike DeFelice, said, “You will get tired, you will stumble every once in a while, but what did we teach you about what to do when those things happen? Lean on the warriors to your left and your right, your boys, your amazing wife, and those of us who love you like family and fight on.”

Now, keep fucking going.