08/06/2026
Twenty-two years ago today, I was in Najaf, Iraq.
To be honest, it’s hard to even remember those days. Most of the time it takes a Facebook memory like this to remind me.
I can look at pictures, but a lot of the memories are scattered. Some are clear. Some are gone. Maybe that’s for the best.
What I do remember is that I wasn’t the same after I came home.
I started noticing a change in myself. I was angrier. More impatient. I isolated myself more than I ever had before. At the time, I didn’t connect the dots. I just thought that’s who I had become.
As the years went on, that deployment wasn’t the only thing I was carrying. It stacked on top of childhood trauma and, more recently, some of the hardest challenges my family has ever faced.
Eventually, all of that weight caught up with me.
Looking back now, I realize I spent years trying to outrun things I had never actually faced.
It nearly cost me my life.
Today, I’m in a much different place. Not because my past changed, but because I finally stopped pretending I could carry it all by myself.
Sobriety has given me a second chance. Therapy has helped me understand myself. My faith has given me hope. And the people who refused to give up on me reminded me that I wasn’t alone.
If you’re reading this and you’re fighting battles nobody else can see, don’t wait as long as I did.
There is no shame in asking for help.
Some of the toughest people I know are the ones who finally said, “I can’t do this alone anymore.”
I’m grateful to still be here.
And I’m grateful that today, I’m living instead of just surviving. Live for them. Live for yourself.
