We'll start from the beginning.
I was 18 and just moved to Tampa, FL from Homewood, IL. (South suburbs of Chicago) All growing up, I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. Nothing ever stuck out to me.
Flash forward another year, I'm 19 and failing this one class in college, software development. The truth behind me failing was I went up to Chicago with my mother to visit. We had to attend a funeral for my mother's "second mom". Bill and Bev were always there for my mother from what I hear. I also hear that my grandmother was obsessed with Bill. She always loved him and thought he was just the cutest damn thing on this Earth. I'd have no choice but to agree, I met Bill and he was the biggest bundle of joy. When I came back from this trip, after missing two weeks of homework, I turned in what I had missed. My teacher didn't accept it because I needed a copy of Bev's death certificate.
So, I took her class again because I failed. I received zeros for all of those assignments because she wouldn't allow me to turn them in. This next semester in class, I didn't miss. I attended every class, did every assignment. But, when it came around to the same assignments I missed last semester, I turned in what I had already done.
Welp...
I received zeros for plagiarism and failed again...
As I drove home, a million things were going through my head. "How the hell am I going to explain to my father?" (He's been a teacher for 25+ years) Well, I somehow explained it to both of my parents and they were so upset and frustrated with my position in life, they broke down in tears.
Now my dad never cries and I never really made the two of them cry because of something I did. It felt absolutely horrible. I knew I had to do something with my life. So, the only thing I could think of at the time was when my grandmother would always point to the television screen while a military commercial was on and say "One of you babies of mine will be a part of that, it would be so bada**."
After talking further and my mother wanting me to stay home, I made the toughest decision in my life... Leave my parents home to enlist in the Army as a helicopter engine mechanic. On graduation day of basic, I was the guy who got engaged to a woman I only knew for a couple of months, maybe a year. Shortly after my initial training, I found out I was getting placed in Special Operations Aviation.
It was quite a bit to soak in, especially after asking my mother and fiancé if I should go and they said no because it was too dangerous. Well, I learned very quickly that the Army doesn't care about what you want; they send you where they need you.
I've never felt better in my life than when I got past the Spec Ops 6-week training, and it's nothing crazy, it's just something I was extremely proud. Especially knowing I'm one of the very few in the world to go through it. One of the best things about Spec Ops is the fact your deployments are only 30-90 days roughly. So, naturally I was itching for about a year to go and deploy. Just about everyone who shows up to our unit is extremely excited to get overseas and start fixing engines for special forces.
While being overseas, I enjoyed my time. Nothing felt better than serving for our country, with the ultimate purpose of protecting our homes and loved ones. When I was garrison (stationed in the States), I struggled to find the purpose of our training. Not knowing why I had to wake up at 5am to show up to run everyday and then train on engines from 9-4pm. One easily begins to wonder what our true purpose is.
While overseas, a couple things happened. I faced a couple close-calls. Nothing crazy, but it's also nothing to talk down on. One of the biggest problems when returning home from overseas is this internal feeling that your "combat" story isn't as cool as the next guy's. No matter what it is, the next guy has a better story. So, I silenced myself. I never spoke too much about the occasions where I was scared for my life, and if I did, I didn't even notice the impact it would truly have on my life later on.
On top of that, I was married at this point and had a few bit of friends within the unit. It was about a year after I arrived to the unit, I went overseas. Unluckily for me, my wife at the time was not working alongside me. She felt afraid and alone at home, so she turned to those friends I had... After the first deployment, I had this funny feeling that something was going on, but I couldn't prove it and she didn't tell me honestly what happened. So, I stayed with my wife for another year trying to fix the relationship and all I heard the whole time was "You've changed".
I had no idea what she was talking about. I personally didn't think I changed at all, but I was wrong. I was completely changed and didn't even notice until I was already divorced and getting medically discharged.
After spending another year in the States, I ended up overseas again. This time, it went even more south. I had this funny feeling that something was wrong when I woke up randomly on this day in Iraq. Something wasn't right. So, I texted my best friend at the time, Cody Bowling. He says to check my bank account. Sure enough, there's a $300 charge for one bar and $50 for another... on MY card. So, I tried calling and calling, facetime after facetime, I got nothing. She didn't answer. I could only think of one person to text on a Sunday at 5am, KEVIN DEHLER. He pulled up to my house and found another man's car there.
I was completely torn, but long story short, I ended up divorced about two months after getting home from overseas. The only thing I thought to do was turn to my homies. My buddies that I knew were there for me all along. (I know, kind of ironic, but it's all I had) We ended up going to the bar every weekend, Friday and Saturday, maybe even a Thursday if we're lucky to have a four-day weekend. It was safe to call us all alcoholics. I was the only one with a house too, so they were showing up to my house whenever they wanted, two of them lived with me including my future brother-in-law. After drinking extensively for a couple months, my close friend Thomas Coltrain (guest of the podcast and Founder of Good Company New Network) finally said "I think I'm done drinking guys, it's getting old." That got us all to call it quits and realize we had a problem to solve. Oddly enough we all went our own way to do this. I started going to the gym and playing hockey, my buddy Augustin started getting deeper into guns, Thomas started skateboarding like a madman.
About two months after my divorce, I was placed on a quick trip to Indiana to fix a fuel issue on a Chinook engine. On the ride back, I was a bit tired so I laid down on the helicopter all the way home and took a snooze. When I woke up, my back was in agony. So I went over to the aid station (Which is also frowned upon within the unit for some reason) and asked them to look into it. They sent me to get x-rays done and the next day I was to come back to go over my x-ray results. When I came back, the man who looked at my x-rays said I was completely fine, just go get some boot inserts. So I did and carried on with my life.
Like I said, I dove deep into hockey, so I was playing about 5 games a week. That week, I had a couple games as forward, then one or two as a goalie. When I played goalie, we were winning by three with about ten seconds left and a man on the enemy team took a shot from behind the net and it hit my in my shin... right where I had no padding.
So, I went back into the aid station and asked them to ensure my shin is fine and I don't need anything special, it anything just give me free Ibuprofen. As this new doctor was asking questions about my shin, she had my whole medical record pulled up. After she asked me everything to make sure my shin was fine, and it was, she asked if I had anything else to bring up. As the soldier I am, with the stigma around you tellling people about your problems, I said "No, I don't think so, I feel pretty great."
Her response, "Well I see you have scoliosis."
I HAD NO IDEA. I was completely shook. This was the first time I've ever been told, with undeniable proof, that I had scoliosis. Shortly after breaking that news to me, she pulled up her second monitor that had the regulation against having scoliosis in the Army. Then third screen she had pulled up was my actual x-ray to show me how messed up my back was. She told me "You know, you can't be in the army with this. I'm going to put your packet in today to get you out."
I was torn apart. I went to my car, sat there, called my mother and started crying. I had no idea what to do next with my life, if I was even getting out. The doctor told me I SHOULD be getting out within the next year. So for the next eight months to a year, I just sat in my buddies house and focused on myself, thinking of every job situation possible (podcasting never really came to mind).
After my life took a complete 180 turn in less than six months, I ended up getting medically discharged and moved home to Tampa with my family. I sold my house, threw away everything in my house, and packed up my 2016 Jetta and drove back home. With no new purpose, I had no idea what to do. I just got done fighting for my country, I know I could keep going, but for this stupid medical reason, I'm stuck at home watching all my buddies go overseas and "have a good time".
After all this news, I actually ended up with my own gun to my head, in the driveway of the house I was getting ready to sell. I called about 5 people, just reaching out trying to talk to someone and finally, the last number I was going to call... picked up the phone. My little brother answered and immediately started crying, begging me to stay with him, explaining how he would be completely lost without me. This was the call that changed my life forever.
When I moved home, I was struggling to find something to do. I didn't have any emotional outlets other than smoking weed, and that isn't always the best option. Especially if the people paying for your living expenses don't agree with it. My parents weren't okay with it, but I still did it. My mother reached a point where it went too far and ended up having to kick me out of the home. I don't blame her, I blatantly disobeyed her in her own home, I understand that.
I ended up homeless for about three days until I found an overpriced apartment to move into. By this time, I had just met my new girlfriend and just decided not to finish my aircraft maintenance license. My parents both wanted all of us kids to go to college and get a nice paying job, then have a family. I knew working for another person wasn't going to make me happy and I had to make a decision. So, naturally they were upset with my decision, unsure if I could ever make it successfully in life going a different route than most people.
I took a parttime job at the golf course as a cart boy, while my girlfriend worked at the restaurant as the manager. While I was working this job, I had plenty of time to listen to podcasts, one of my favorite things to do. I ran out of podcasts I wanted to listen to, so Kevin sent me one by Sol Brah with Sebastian Ghiorghiu and it changed my life. I immediately texted Kevin back and said "dude, we can do this."
After going through what I went through, I wanted to provide a community for men and women to go to and talk about whatever they needed to in a safe, warm place. As the suicide rate affects me so personally, I wanted to help.
His response was "I'm thinking the name: The Toolbox." I said "no no no, Mind Over Matter." He agreed.
And the rest is history.
