the book of

ADAM

TL;DR, Jesus is King

chapter 8 & 9 to be finished at a later date, on God’s timing

On a beautiful day in February of 2017, I hit the slopes with my wife, siblings and cousins.

Despite little experience, I took on the mountain with no fear.

And then…

Although this picture above was more or less a joke from earlier in the day, later I did eventually hit the ground and was unable to get up.

I caught an edge, whipped head first into the ice.

The back of my head touched my back.

I felt my flesh squeeze through my bones.

I heard and felt many pops. I thought my heart exploded.

As I flopped on the ground, gasping for air, I recall thinking, “I thought I would want to see my kids when I die, but as I am, all I can think is breathe.”

Ski partol found me. Carted me to an ambulance. They gave me two doses of fenenal and drove me to the ER.

As I lay in agony, I was also high out of my mind.

The nurse considered me a drug seeker.

They sent me home.

On the way home, the fentanyl wore off.

My whole body began to cripple in pain.

My brothers carried me into bed.

I cried my deepest tears.

After a week, my condition got worse.

An audible “gurgle” was coming from my chest as I moved around.

My chest was still “cramping” and my feet were numb.

I went back to the ER, where they found a collapsed lung. Imaging suggested nodules and blebs from an underlying condition named sarcoidosis.

I was told to see a specialist.

Scheduling was 6 months out.

I was sent home.

I was a casual weekend smoker but it quickly turned into a daily routine as I desperately needed relief from high levels of pain.

Late at night I would blaze. The residual effect would create enough relief to last the following day.

I had many good days during 2017 because of this. I have lots of pictures of smiles and great moments.

However the pain began to compound. And my condition steadily grew worse.

Time pasted, my pain didnt.

It became transcendent.

My intake of weed grew, my perspective became strange.

I kept going back to the ER and specialists.

Because of their findings, they insisted the pain was autoimmune, and began to treat me with nothing short of voodoo.

I did ask for a spinal MRI each time.

I was convinced I had triggered something which I could only describe as spinal arthritis.

Time continued to pass.

Weeks, months, years.

I began to live one thousand years in every second.

My body was being electrocuted.

I became allergic to everything.

The sun. Fumes, perfumes, the dishwasher. Dogs in the office. Food. Sugar. Everything.

The thought of suicide crept in. Death seemed so relieving.

My family kept me going.

My kids brought joy and a sense of the future, why I shouldnt quit.

My wife, whom grew sick of it all, kept me tough.

My siblings, gave me sympathy.

Night sweats and nightmares.

I woke up gasping for air and choking often.

I began sleeping in my office. One to control the temp and air. Two because my wife was sick of it.

I began to isolate.

chapter 1

SARCOID’S VOID

Back to the doctors.

More time passed.

Perhaps a million years or a trillion tears.

Some doctor thought it was worth biopsy’ing my lung to confirm the prior findings was not bacterial.

It wasn’t. Thanks for that, not really, thats not a very smart idea to cut open a chest to explore. Definitely a bad idea.

Seen above I am working from the ICU as I still have to make a living. At this point I bet I sent $30K in doctor fees.

I am smiling because I brought weed pills. I refused to take their opioids. My conscious effort to remain pure from their theories of it all. A failed attempt but noble in some minuscule way.

Considering the results of the biopsy, they prescribed prednisone, low dose chemo, and anti depressants.

Later realizing they essentially didnt know what to do but get me hooked.

I was starting to lose myself and was at first self aware of it.

Not so much later on.

More time passed.

Art became an outlet.

I became manic.

80 MG of prednisone daily will do that to you.

The low dose chemo made me toxic.

At first I recall my perception of colors changed.

Then the world changed.

I recall noticing my proximity to death.

My convictions grew.

I realized I was a terrible person but didnt have the energy to care.

Nothing was as I originally thought it was.

Everything seemed broken.

For example, our churches are dead.

The streets are dirty.

People are shallow.

Needless to say I was jaded and bitter.

Toxic.

Back to the ER. No answers.

I started writing on my walls. In hindsight, that should have been my sign to myself.

I needed an outlet.

More time passed.

My arthritic symptoms got worse. I was being destroyed by each passing storm.

The mania was real and every drop of rain was felt.

My sensitivity to pollution grew.

My immune system tanked.

Well before COVID 19 I began wearing a mask.

Otherwise I couldnt breathe.

Everything but the freshest air caused me to choke.

My kids needed discipline, order, a mission. But I couldnt help. We outsourced it. I witnessed the mesmerizing trance of leaders which crafted our children, and the eager parents desperate to find solutions for their children. Myself included. I certainly struggled with instilling strength into my children and am thankful for the community’s support.

Part of me no longer cared about what was normal.

I became really weird.

So much more time passed.

and more time passed…

I didnt want to outsource my role indefinitely. I wanted to be there and did whatever I could to make it.

Coached a bunch.

It was fun.

I love sports and kids.

More time passed. I began growing weed considering how expensive it was to feel pain free.

Wasnt very good at it.

I painted my view of the issue.

More and more time passed.

I was in desperate search of reality.

Ultimately I completely lost all sense of truth.

Mania is ugly.

I committed many sins.

Many mistakes.

I cursed out family.

I betrayed my wife.

I plotted my murder.

Fairly certain it could be my last Christmas.

Suicide was 100% on the table.

But I couldnt give up just yet.

Too many were watching.

And then my family staged in intervention.

They insisted I went to a shrink.

It was really upsetting.

I took my family’s advice and saw a shrink.

She recommended lithium as she said I was bipolar.

It was in that moment I realized they are all broken, witch doctors.

Shortly after my appointment with the psychiatrist, I was driving down the road, thinking,

“wow, the sky is so beautiful… wait, I have not felt this way in forever. whats going on???”

I dawned on me, I forgot my meds today.

From mid Jan 2020 I started reducing my intake of all their meds. Weed too.

With some new found mental clarity, albeit very little,

I found myself back at a specialist who I had seen many times.

Complained about the same thing, pain, like I was being electrocuted. I was numb everywhere. Crying daily.

And just like I said every single visit, my wife, mother, father and mother-in-law as my witness, “I want a spinal MRI because after I wrecked I feel like I have spinal arthritis.”

To which the ignorant women said, if you’re numb I want to do an EKG first.

The EKG reveled yes there was numbness and a disruption of the circuit.

She ordered a brain MRI, she mentioned a brain tumor was likely the cause the mood changes too… lolz

Results, nothing…. lolz again

Next a cervial MRI was ordered.

There is a problem between C4 & C5.

They asked me to go via ambulance to the ER and I was to have emergency surgery they next day.

I got another call a couple mins later, the hospitals are shut down due to COVID 19 as of today.

I drove home and laugh cried.

chapter 2

SIMPLY TOYED

I felt just like this guy in the video. So much more. Like a victim, a villain, a hero.

Mind you, I had brought with me peer reviewed articles to numerous DR appointments which I demonstrated why my original diagnoses were wrong.

One time, I got ready to cite one, “Dr, I read in the Journal of your Peers they found….” to which he cut me off and replied “I’ve read that one, you are wrong.”

Yet I never mentioned any detail about the paper, like the title, or my point. But he still cut me off.

Like I challenged his intellect and he was insulted I would try, and therefore wouldnt hear me and instead belittle me as punishment.

For the record, I dont claim to be smarter, I was simply more invested in finding the answer.

He followed with the next two comments, which I cant forget.

“You should go see a shrink.” And then turned to my wife, who by this time was exhausted, and said “How do you deal with this one.”

Whatever.

Still triggered by the cycles of mania, I did what I could to pursue peace.

Thank God for COVID tho… at least from my perspective, it was a blessing.

The world stopped so I could catch up.

I made my attempts to focus more on the family.

It was the first time in a while I actually looked them in the eyes.

I did get time with the kids, it was great.

However enough was enough. I wanted change. Seemed like the rest of the world was feeling similarly.

Being bitter and angry, I did get fooled by the lies. I was ready to fight and didnt need much to be convinced.

When you are made so weak and vulnerable, its a stones throw.

I was broken and trying to cope.

HOWEVER weed, and or SSRIs or other mind altering meds do NOT allow you to see the real facts with clarity!

Reflecting a bit later on this, I found myself deep in a culture which over medicates for profit and therefor produces victims which are easily persuaded due to imbalance of their brain chemistry and perspective. I believe this is why the left has such a strong hold, they co create and then prey on people who want others to solve their new problems.

There wasnt much time tho for protesting with ANTIFA, so much to prepare for on the big day!

Ah! Relief!

The surgeon said once he relieved the pressure, I lifted my hand on the table and gave him a thumbs up??!!??

To which my response was like, bro, you didnt strap me down???

ACDF procedure

When I came to, my first thought was, wow I can feel my feet.

During the next couple hours, electrical like shocks of relief shot through my chest and my heart and lungs began to receive life.

My heart relaxed. My breathing got deeper.

Relief.

About 80% of my syptoms resided.

I brought chocolates to resist their meds.

Emotionally a wreck.

Physically depleted.

There was still a fight within me.

Continued to journal as my mania wasnt relieved.

My fight turned to anger.

Chapter 3

not yet me

Journaling anger.

Venting so I dont pull a trigger.

Fresh off of surgery, my wife took the kids on a trip while I stayed home to heal.

Time passed and I fasted. Not as much an intentional fast, but I couldnt make food as my wound was too fresh. It was easier to not eat.

Another rush again of my cycles going from one emotion to the next. Seconds or milaseconds apart.

Tripping.

A bit different then the mania but also the same.

My reliance to Christ was never stronger, never healthier, and to this day I miss it.

Not as if I was sanctified. But as if I was close to the other side.

The sensitivity in my central nervous system was so overwhelming I dont know the words to describe it.

I could at least see the spiderwebs of my nerves through my skin.

I could sense things on another level. But the meaning of what I sensed was never fully understood.

The purpose of this all wasnt clear but I didnt care as I felt His comfort.

Fasting away…. time was irrelevent.

I flashed back to when I retraced my heritage.

During the fasting, I searched for meaning, one thing became evident.

I am NOT living up to what my family name apparently means.

Like lady named Grace, which isnt quite so.

Although, my pain at least produced discipline.

The meaning of discipline: 1. : to punish or penalize for the sake of enforcing obedience and perfecting moral character. 2. : to train or develop by instruction and exercise especially in self-control.

As time goes by, and more clarity comes, I want to destroy my story and hide.

While it doesnt seem like I learned my lessons based on the prior images of me smoking weed and giving the middle finger to trump, wow I was so wrong about nearly everything.

Absolutely embarrassed.

I was and am a fool.

I was hustled.

However there is a reason to keep your failures and your scars top of mind.

Not to bury them and rebuild like nothing happened.

Instead I should wear it.

Being “strong and courageous”.

chapter 4

healing

I completely denounce all of my prior writings.

Furthermore, I completely denounce myself.

Honestly can I please ask for forgiveness?

I’m not 100% proud of those poems & doodles,

I was high, at times averaging four joints a day to cope with the pain.

Yet what was said was said and should be contemplated upon.

The frustration of being in mind numbing pain, coupled with poorly prescribed meds, was once released through poems while trapped in a tiny room (pre-covid).

Mostly for some therapeutic venting, post mortal pscyo-analytics idk,

there was certainly clang association and other obvious signs of mental illness,

or maybe some of it was prophesy of whats to come…

after all, some how what I felt, what I noticed became increasingly known to the world.

Either I was a super early adopter, or rather was it was like God heard my prayer, and decided to crack open the medical system.

Would He just do that?

Perhaps some of what I experienced is true, but when even a fraction of it isnt, and I proclaim it, then I am a false prophet.

I do know I am not 100% right, because I numbed my pain and dulled my perspective, which caused major cracks in my perspective.

I was so triggered.

I am thankful God restrained me.

Given my capacity, some should be thankful too that He did.

But its not just me.

Others are hitting their breaking point too.

I’m better then that. Arent I?

And so now is, or has to be different, as I dont want to be a victim.

I really dont want to be a villain either.

While I did try it, He didnt allow it. I wanted to sue but no lawyer cared.

Now I have no choice but the next best path forward.

If I can just focus again. See more clearly, I’m certain I can see what was true and what was a lie.

I am certain I have learned so much, albeit buried in the rubble, and would rather apply instead of dwelling on the past.

For example, whilst my wife drove me to NYC to see the #1 rheumatologist at the Hospital for Special Surgery we listened to Frankl’s book

While I laid flat on a mattress with the seats down unable to sit still in a car for too long I thought perhaps thats a glimps of how I might survive this pain.

Forward thinking, focusing on my someones, after all:

Sounds nice heard, but applied is another thing.

I want out of my past the victim mentality, past the villain mentality, past all of those phases closer to what must be more elevated, less manipulated.

Perhaps one that of a guide, or something similar, to my somones, my kids who are also going to face similar whoas in life.

I could channel this and focus on them.

However, I am still seriously battling with this “choose one’s own way” concept.

How could I possibly choose myself?

I am deeply imbalanced.

Its like my patterns & habits & pains cycles wont let me change.

While spiraling, tweaking, twitching, tripping, I recalled going from one emotion to another, without control as to which was next.

That same sensation, that of being out of control is still present. Less prevalent, but present. Lurking.

Like a ticking time bomb.

I am constantly trying to defuse myself.

I begin drawing on my thumb with a dark sharpie outlining a ring.

While drawing it, I internally declare to myself, “stay humble”.

While the spirals transpire, all I can do is sit and stare at my thumb for the fear of looking away and doing something catastrophic was too much to bear.

When the ring would wear off, I would redraw and just stare at my thumb, and declare "stay humble".

At this point all I can fathom is focusing just this, which is in essence simply breath work, living in the moment.

At the core of this statement, was an unspoken declaration to myself.

That declaration stating that I was severely broken.

And that instead of any further action, instead sitting and doing nothing was far more beneficial than whatever might've been next.

https://www.ted.com/talks/suleika_jaouad_what_almost_dying_taught_me_about_living

Given my awareness of this brokenness, and knowing at some point, I would have to do something, like work, was also an awareness of the fact I needed new patterns, new habits.

I need new patterns as I really made a mess of things. I really need to start cleaning my life up.

Absolutely everything was a mess and out of place.

Absolutely everything was out of reach and passing by me so fast I was unable grab it.

My emotions, my relationships, my work, the world in which I lived in.

Everything.

I liken it to this particular analogy:

It was as if I was trying to make it to the other side of a river.

Just as you did when you were a kid playing at the waters edge.

Pretending that the conclusion to our long journey was just there on the other side.

Jumping from one rock to another, even throwing in a couple more to build up a ledge to make it just a bit further, joyfully splashing to make it to the other side.

However this isnt that same joyful memory, more like a nightmare.

Like the same desperation which occurs during the panic of a midnight terror:

• it was as if each rock was too far out of reach,

• and each rock was so slippery,

• and the river itself was absolutely raging.

The fear of slipping in under the water which was cold and frigid, would cause my heart to race.

Perhaps some pattern of hopping, skipping, jumping was navigable by a stable mind, but now that weather has changed, the water level has risen, a sense of fear and panic has set in your balance is out the window.

While jumping from one to the other, we realize now that some of the rocks are missing because the water has overtaken them.

Instead, we have to double back and retrace our steps.

All the progress we had made has been undone.

Even worse, we realize that pattern of which we expected is no longer an option.

Desperately we looked for any pattern that will allow us to cross.

In that desperation, we even consider the riskiest of all patterns.

I had heard there are seven steps, or phases, or emotions to heal grief…

I liken my analogy to whatever must be written in this book.

For the record, I did not, will not, and should not read the book.

Not everyone perceives these steps similarly, depending on the type of loss, personal strengths, and context.

My own reflections on the situation were more than the book could have taught me anyways.

It's in this experience that I am beginning to witness there are also some what sequencial, required emotional patterns my brain is attempting to go through.

If there are seven steps to heal grief, then perhaps N steps for healing anxiety. N for depressions. N for not being a bitch and growing up.

Perhaps thats why I was tripping through emotions like that?

If you were to take a healthy mind, or even take a slightly unhealthy mind which should have enough capability to self heal, such as that of 99.9% of the world, and then let's say you over medicate them, perhaps they too would tweak out of the pattern towards healing and continuously glitch in effort to get to the other side.

An infinite loop, trying to find the pattern but unable to because the rock they needed was neurologically blocked from meds, or a vice, or pain.

Its only a matter of time until one gives up and heads down the easiest.

Personaly, I couldnt get to any next step because of my imbalance.

My short circuiting prohibited my progress.

The zoloft stopped me from dealing with the anxiety.

The chemo made me toxic.

The prednisone made me rage.

The weed placed me outside voodoo, thankfully, but somewhere out of touch, unthankfully.

The cymbalta made me want to slit my throat.

Death felt like the easiest pattern.

Apparently thats now a law suit… Cymbalta will want you to do that.

Pause, what?

These meds give people similar collective thought?

These meds led me down this thought pattern?

My Nth step sure began to feel like suicide more and more every day.

That pattern in which became my easiest, next step was brought on by the medication itself.

Buried deep in the results, others which also have had these throat slitting impulses. I as well.

Ironic given my perfectly placed new scar.

Ironic, only given my new sense of dark humor.

No longer funny when your loved ones call you out of the blue saying that they too are dealing with the same thing.

How does this same lie keep infiltrating our lives?

I feel terrible for those families of which had loved ones which didnt make it. Terrible.

It reminds me of my responsibility to write more.

Others have writen too tho.

Seems like a logical read given my struggle, but again when you live it, you dont really need to. I’ll pass for now.

Dont need to read about the cult when I saw this collective thought first hand.

It opperates under something like 'collective thought'.

While it exists in many forms, there is one characteristic which units them.

One characteristic, that is one more aside from the one the fact they want us to slit our throats.

That other one being they all have made it to the other side of the river, and considering they all have all taken the easiest path, they therefore are drawing the same conclusions.

When thought A triggers, they then go X, T, E to get to Z.

While the healthier brain should have gotten there through the healing pattern.

For example when I was hurting, and desperate for relief, I bought weed from my best friend.

Honestly, its hard for me to blame desperate people, who are thriving in pain.

But sitting in that pain might have just been better.

Regardless, I went through my ABCs out of order, forced to, but out of order.

One night he was short so he & I went up the chain.

The dealer was clearly wrestling with something and immediately opened up.

For what ever reason, people began to do that more and more often.

Like horse see and sense horse people, I began to see and sense them, and they spoke right up.

On his word, he began to explain that there are these beings which come by his house.

At night he can hear them, very audibly, they are all at his windows and doors, knocking, asking for pills.

He testifies to his disturbance from these beings and also testifies that others which have OD’d also have seen these same grey like beings.

I believe this is either true or a terribly damaged brain due to drugs or more.

Or, what I do believe to be true, both.

Regardless, these disturbances began to feel eerily similar to what I was vibing while going to the white coats.

When taking a huge step back, these spaces, places, atmospheres began to sound more and more so terribly similar to the trap houses.

Its all like all they souls present searching for drug relief, either in the house on the block, or in the doctors office, are jumping from one rock to the next, whatever is easiest, whatever is right in front of them, no matter the order.

AB..MG..Z, not ABC…XYZ

The beings sitting next to me in the waiting room of my doctor’s office are so comparable to the grey like zombies in the streets, either seen or unseen.

I’m certain that at one point these kind old ladies had the world at their finger tips, but as I sit next to them I sense the world of misery they are in.

They would mumble under their breath to me about how hard it is to be seen.

About how they have been out of meds for days now.

And how they still feel unwell.

If I had the chance to notice them during the beginning of their journey, they were fruitful.

But after long, hooked and broken.

Moaning, sweaty, stinky.

The doctors office began to feel like a trap house.

The doctor began to feel like the drug lord.

Surface level visits, like to my pcp or to my best friend, it was innocent. Blameless.

I hold no anamocity to the people which are lovingly trying to help one another, and unknowingly not knowing any better. Innocent.

However, the deeper I went no matter which, illegal or legal, on to the next level in the systems the disturbance & inevitable realization grew.

The further up the chain, to those which clearly did know better, I conclude I saw nothing short of sheer evil.

And I did go up the chain, to UPMC, AGH, Cleveland Clinic, Hospital for Special Surgery.

Given my new budding ability to speak to to people like a horse person, they could not hide their tells.

The body language, the cues, like putting a hand over their mouth while talking, or whatever it might be.

Every one of them was more and more easily read.

Each one, either the doctors office or the drug lord, preying upon the desire for relief, all well knowing they had absolutely no answer.

By the 70th appointment, demented. Guilty of the same collective thought.

I no longer saw the same lab coats. I saw them for what they truly are.

Either witch doctors or close to it.

Possessed or simply heavily influenced without knowing.

It doesnt matter, they are all going down the same broken, out of order, panicked, easiest thought patterns.

When a collective arrives to the same conclusions over time despite it not benefiting the world around them seems obvious it to me to conclude there is something manipulating them from the spiritual realm.

Something which is imposing the same collective thought.

Note, there are paid for critics refute the linkage between the health care industry or medication, either legal or illegal, to the spiritual realm.

“However, what detracts from The cult of pharmacology's overall importance is not just the familiarity of some of the points made, but also the way that these are presented. Too often, DeGrandpre relies on a very limited selection of sources and uses these uncritically. At the same time, he also has a tendency to stray into unnecessary detail, citing numerous, lengthy case-studies when one or two would suffice. He also makes a few unfortunate mistakes...”

https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC2175068/

However, when you know, you know.

And yet, hypothetically speaking, if I so felt inclined to use the same tactics which they themselves use, such as peer reviewed research papers, or data or "science" to fanatically make my point that the spiritual rhelm has imposed this collective thought… I guarantee most would not listen.

I did recite research during my visits, of which contradicted the evil one’s narrative and his minions lashed out.

The (witch) doctors were insulted. How dare I question their expertise.

And my (grey being) neighbors thought I was ignorant for not believing the science.

Sidenote, how interesting is it that they all lash out in sync??

Verbatum too.

“Spirits speak”.

The very nature of my injury produced extreme sensitivity.

I became a canary in a coal mine.

A frog in a swamp.

The world’s energy around me was felt in excruciating detail.

Even when it wasnt so obvious that they were all reading from the same script, I still saw and felt connections like never before.

During my late night research to try to find my cure, I happened to stumble on to a completely different bunny trail.

Research suggests, at this minimal point in the history of time, that the waves in our brain are actually sync’ing with each other when in a convo.

More then ever I myself and the world around me was being inundated with communications.

Signals being sent.

I was desperate for answers and so I received.

Half the time I didnt even know who sent it.

The signals which I was being inundated with were rewiring me.

As much as I tried to fight it, it was nearly impossible to.

I was vulnerable and desparate.

Doom scrolling & then brain rot now comes in many forms.

For example, scrolling tiktok was somehow so similar to listening to my dr over and over, it was all the same.

Even late at night trying to research my way out of pain. All the same.

Like no matter how much I knew they were wrong, I kept getting signals and letting them sync me, and it kept influencing me.

This rot was leading to my exposure, my vulnerability, my weakness.

In my weakness I lost my way, I could not find the healing patterns to the other side of the river.

The more I lost my way the more evil would to thrive.

After long my doctors believed they already did enough.

By the end of my visits with them they told me my problems were not theirs to solve.

At first, and due to my toxicity, they did all seem down right evil, and I was 100% good.

My original problems was 100% theirs to solve.

My new problems were created by them!

All of my problems we solved by the answer I gave them each visit!

Yet how could they keep denying me my basic request for an MRI?

I believe that some them were pure evil. But not all.

Certainly, I was not 100% good.

Instead its like a bit of evil which across many, moving in one direction, begin to add up to something massive.

While stuck in these appointments I sensed a captivating power that was seemingly utilizing fractional complacency amongst many people which began to add up to a massive strong hold.

For example, in its basic form, when people try acting like “its the systems fault”, not theirs.

All while being a part of and/or being paid by or paying into or being treated by said system.

Isnt that still knowingly communicating and therefore syncing with what we’re all complaining about???

We have the proof, measurable evidence we are syncing.

Receiving and submitting with the communications & habitually continuing in their patterns in turn rewire our actual brains.

Visit after visit. Scroll after scroll. Event after event.

The essence of our actual being is being rewired.

Damning first person & peer reviewed evidence (which is 100% irelevent and soon to be dated) which compels me to ask more:

• What else syncs with us?

• Is it too far of a stretch to assume signals can be sent to willing receptors which are trying to receive syncs?

• Is it too far of a stretch to believe this something is using this syncing to manipulate people? Like a whisper in the back of the mind. Some powers sending signals for good, some for the worse? Some of us being pulled in both ways? To the other side of the river and simaltainous being confused about the way from another source?

• Eventually, after years worth of syncing, do we then begin to speak another language in comparison to those they dont sync with? Is this why they actually couldnt hear my cries for help?

• Does anything or anyone else reads syncs more granularly, and with specific detail? Surely that technology isn't too far off. Perhaps already created.

• Is it too far of a stretch then to believe that either signals are then readable by a higher power? Or even a lower power?

I continue to doodle my process to cope and not lash out.

I recall a prior doodle.

I drew it to illustrate the elctrical like currents flowing thru my nerves.

My muscle cramping which locked me up and kept my body suspended in air.

If this EEG bunny trail has truths, then it feels like I drew it for another reason.

If thats true, I feel like I am being manipulated like a puppet.

If true, this would give a whole new meaning to it all.

My overly educated brain reminds me not to jump to dramatic conclusions. “We need to see the data before….”

My, albeit slow, but still somewhat mature adult brain reminds me to grow up and not be so dramatic.

My self which longs to be my own best friend, reminds me I am badly wounded physically, and subsequently mentally, and therefore now spiritually.

It reminds me that I too, may be just as demented as that druglord who saw gray beings.

** a quick pause to look over my shoulder **

I am deeply damaged, broken demented.

I have been played like a puppet so many times and am becoming more skeptical then ever.

A rush of perspectives, to believe there is more connected than one realizes or to become numb by it all and tune it out.

Considering my limited capacity for juggling life and contemplating the truth, how could I navigate?

There are at least two obvious paths forward.

Well, I could pause reflect and hypothetically play out each scenario.

On one hand, I could do nothing allow myself to become numb by at all and let this collective thought take me over. “Click and subscribe”. Pretty easy too.

I could become just like them, continue to take my meds and spiral onwards, doing “the right thing'“.

Or on the other hand, I could start to trust this new sensitivity and intuition, attention to the details.

I could speak to the spirits, and enjoy the conversation.

Befriending the lost and broken hearted.

Interestingly enough, it's this path that becomes pretty overwhelming.

Overwhelming because as I attempt to befriend, I simply notice whats breaking them too.

Overwhelming when I see the details of whats causing the brokeness.

If all of these details are true, and really believing it, what would I, or should I do?

The next thoughts are extreme.

I had made a pact with myself, survive like this for so long, then at 35 I would end it.

Living amongst the lies, day to day with only eyes for the evil side of life, and my own looming death sentence was sucking me deeper and deeper.

I assumed suicide was certainly worthy of a sentence to hell.

Especially as this would wreck my wife and kids.

Destroying their lives would certainly warrant a trip in the wrong direction.

These contemplations became like staring into an abyss.

The depth of it was so deep.

This mindset was all encompassing, all consuming.

Transformative.

When I thought I was at the bottom of my sorrows, I was only more horrified by how much deeper it truly was.

As time passed by, the depth and weight of these thought grew at an exponcial rate.

Not to mention my chest cavity was cramping, giving me the actual sensation of a weight on my shoulders.

Like the same feeling when standing on the edge of a tall building. Staring down and your feet quiver.

Frozen in fear.

As if the depths of hell were on the precipice of my horizon.

Like the deep was so deep, and it wasnt just infront of me, but behind, above and side to side of me.

I began to feel this same feeling on the daily, fathoming how much there was around me.

The sheer volume of outer space. The volume of emptiness out there. The sheer volume of emptiness in the people I am interacting with.

It wasnt just around me, but inside of me.

I said to my mom, there is a black hole which is pulling me in from the inside of my spine.

I feel me dying.

Its like my sensitivity growing in my walking death and was allowing me to see extra.

To see space and time. To see rhythm, signals.

To see the good and evil in everyone, in everything.

However, as my toxicity grew, I can only seem to focus & dwell on whats evil.

Overtime, my heart for the brokenhearted changed.

Later, when I looked into their eyes, I began to judge them with the most ferocious standards.

I spit venomous words which obliterated my most precious relationships.

My wife, my father, my father-in-law, my boss, my pastor, my friends. Everyone.

I began to point out their flaws and hone in on them.

I had major pent up damage which I channeled to elevate in all the wrong ways.

I had it in my mind that this new found sensitivity was a responsibility to bear.

That I was meant to shout “demon”-stratively at the evil at play in the lives of my family, friends, co-workers and church.

I typed emails to HR, I penned letters to friends, I shouted at family.

In a bout of road rage I followed someone and threw rocks at them.

My divisiveness was not bringing any value.

It was quite the opposite.

My own actions to call to out the depths of hell was causing more harm.

Self harm. Family harm. Community harm.

I was not helping anything.

If anything I was now the bigger part of the problem.

This realization wasnt an instantanious thing.

I would snap, shout at a family member, then weeks later appologize.

Then do it again. And again. And again.

Eventually I realized the obvious.

I needed a dramatically different approach.

And so, part of my this phase was simply accepting this worldly brokenness, my own brokeness, is larger then anything I can fix with more rage.

My only option I could agree with at this point was simply: Shutting up & being still.

Considering my impulsivity, I really couldnt do much more.

Sitting still and not giving mental time or space to these intrusive thoughts.

The thoughts which made it possible to see the sheer evil in everything.

The thoughts to do sheer evil.

This evil was so scary, so complex, so inter-winded with the world around me.

I was at the intersection of it all.

Mania made it so tangible. It was not abstract, it was literal.

Noticing it was sync’ing me.

Noticing it was making me like it.

Noticing it seemed to give it more power over me.

It would be better to not let it suck me in. Obviously.

At this point tho I felt like I couldnt not notice and, say, look the other way. Or do something to repell it.

Instead, my best option & really only option, and what is now my 2nd most valuable advice to friends, was simply sitting in my misery.

When it came upon me, sitting still and staying in it.

While sitting in the pit of misery which had dark thoughts of death and the way the world’s evil is at play I would pause each bunny trail and simply revert focus back to nothing.

Focus back on breathe.

And so I sat.

And sat.

And sat.

My favorite spot was on my stoop, which looked over the road and into a patch of woods.

I sat there so much my wife decided to start calling me Stoop Boy from Hey Arnold.

Sitting and doing nothing was healing at least for the sheer fact that doing nothing meant I wasnt being self destructive.

Doing nothing meant I wasnt being slef rightous and yelling at people.

I wasnt plotting murder.

I wasnt slitting my throat.

I have a busy mind so sitting still wasnt easy.

I tried to not think.

Easier said then done.

Perhaps some zen master might be able to.

I do think I got somewhat good at it.

Time would pass.

Intrusive, impulsive, angry thoughts would come, and I would refocus on nothing.

But I still thought.

About the birds, and how they sing.

About how others must have had similar pain.

About how to get over trama.

My brother, who was also dealing with his own grief, recommended this book.

It was a good read.

The “art of joy” through the stoic lens.

I read it with desperation.

Searching for new patterns.

Applying to my daily habits.

It worked.

Some noticable changes occurred in my life. For example, negative visualization, which came too easily, was being re-channeled into appreciation for the fact that things can always get worse. As bad as they are, the abyss is so much deeper. And I didnt hit the bottom…

“The obstacle is the way” was incredibly enticing. I have many obstacles. Lots to run through.

Its hard to wake up on time when you feel so crappy, spitting blood, but I began to wake up early again.

Its hard to sit still when your muscles are constantly cramping, but I began to sit still in effort to “stay in the saddle”.

Its hard to focus on work when you’re going through something that must be like PTSD but I began to work hard at work again.

Its hard to appreciate life when you’re being haunted, but I began to admire my wife and kids again.

While many good and virtuous qualities, which I desperately needed, were drawn up out of me, it still wasnt quite 100% the truth.

I could not take it for more then a life hack from a self help book.

After all, I am the problem. Like my body & now even more so my mind. My opinion of it all.

My opinion of it all is an obstacle which is too much to just go through.

Good vs evil, or lets say I’ve totally lost it and thats hypothetically not even a real thing, then how about what happened to me, is just not something I can plow through whilst sitting in a saddle.

This philosophy is good but not the whole truth as it lacks purpose.

I needed purpose else this pain is pointless.

Without meaning then the relief to my pain out weighs living in it.

Reading this book adds up to another bunny trail. A good one at least! I will admit that its certainly better then the ones I’ve been on recently.

I want more of whats is good, pure and holy.

I do know people like this, of which I call myself one. A Christian is also in pursuit of these things.

“I grew up in a good christian home…” which is the start of every testimony worth tuning out.

However that was mine. I did grow up Christian. So its not like I dont get it.

Or is there more that I dont get?

While sick/injured I did try to read the word.

Quite often too! But for some reason it didnt click.

Didnt stop the downward spiral.

Maybe the meds, maybe the weed. Maybe the fact I was still not convinced how broken I was. Maybe I was still convinced the problem was someone elses, like a doctor’s.

A small group Bible study invited me to join.

Turns out they needed a place to meet as the prior host left the group.

Unknowing of the details about the host, I eagerly joined in pursuit with the new perspective which was certain of my brokenness.

The ~8 guys were kind, gentle. All going through their own things.

Hearing their battles with bi-polar disorders, family drama, porn addictions was in the weirdest way legitimate medicine.

Recently I would have venomously condemned them. Now I am listening, reflecting how this same brokenness in me is also dividing them in their own ways.

I began to feel at home in my own home. Like the prior host of my own home left. Like it was mine again.

While we read and each reflected, and opened up about life, my perspective was a bit pointed towards stoicism.

Which in some ways was towards the truth, but still not 100%.

John Smith: “My bi-polar meds are causing me to be sleepy.”

Adam: “The obstacle is the way.”

The groups, subtle yet obvious response that which denied my approach, logic and phylosophy: “Does anyone else have a chapter worth highlighting for John?”

Honestly, and in my defense I didnt have much else to offer.

I dont think they realized, but the trauma kinda made me forget about everything.

Names, dates, locations, memories all together were lost into the void. Certainly not everything. I have thankfully retained the ability to remember where I put things.

Pain will do that, the brain can only handle so much.

Seeing my lack of depth, my brother in Christ, challenged me to read the New Testament.

The challenge to finish within 30 days was likely a wise play of his on my new found appreciation to crush obstacles.

And so I did… however I am a slow reader so it took me 45 or so.

A couple chapters each morning.

Not so much as to miss it all, but not so little as if to over dwell on each word like a preacher.

Most importantly, I read it with desperation. Attentiveness.

Searching for new patterns and again applying to my daily habits.

It worked. It didnt just work, it transformed. My life & the others around me.

Huge changes occurred in my life.

There are no pictures to illustrate this. Every image would fall short.

It was as if the book was alive?! How could this be true?

The “spirit of joy” is free?

It was a phenomenal read.

Highlighted in yellow resonated with my soul.

And so my fight is not against what is seen, but unseen? Yes I agree. Its like there was a vail between perception and reality.

As those 30 distinct doctors over 70 different trips to their lairs I pointedly recall the eire sensation of a spiritual realm actively combatting me.

How are these rulers controlling the world around me?

Pause, wait, stop.

New patterns.

What is this new pattern telling me?

Wow/what?

There is purpose in my suffering.

This is, as it is written, to produce more patient endurance.

And He who suffered for us produced more blessings for us through His suffering.

And so my suffering which is insignificant and already made comforted by His suffering then might produce blessings by simply being patient and enduring.

Wow.

Where is this place of peace?

Whats keeps me there?

What kept me from being there?

What is keeping others from getting there? I wanna know because I want to either fight it or just do the opposite.

When sick, I was in the first person with those dark powers & I do tho know what brings it closer.

Gansta rap or peer reviewed journals.

As witches read their cook books, out loud, expect, and they get something in return.

So whats the opposite?

I definitely know, Psalms.

Connecting those dots was huge for me.

I began to run, sprint in the other direction.

After my 30… 40 day challenge, I read the opposite of a spell book.

I started waking up early, reading this out loud, in my home, before anyone else was awake.

I was speaking it over my life. Expecting it to be heard by something.

Sending a signal.

Like a seance but not for the dead, for the good Spirit which must be alive and present somewhere.

Ready to grant me peace.

Ready to welcome me to the other side of the raging river.

Eager to help once called upon.

As I read, almost chanted, I came to the realization…

Afterall the syncing, which the signal resonate deepest, occur when two in communication are sharing joy.

The Spirit of Joy wanted to be praised.

And so I did, praise His holy name.

Day over day, things got a bit better, but nothing outwardly noticeable at first.

Month over month, things became evidently different.

Eventually, everything changed for the better.

First my kids began to mature. Then they really really did. 100 fold.

My bosses began to like me again.

People which once wrote me off came back.

My wife and I repaired and rebuilt our relationship better then ever.

My perception of truth was sharper then ever.

My discernment grew.

The details became clearer then ever.

Everything changed. Notably.

Interestingly enough, I was able to write down and detail the perils of my evil death spiral, however I am finding it nearly impossible to articulate the overwhelming and opposite goodness that later occurred.

I am unable to articulate the expansiveness of good.

What a blessing to fathom that and sit in it. I am gretful I do not have to articulate it anyways for it speaks for itself.

Much of my change wasnt even speakable anyways.

So writing what wasnt spoken is pretty difficult.

How to you write what was whispering in an inaudible voice?

Sure I learned from the written word, so yes discussing this in detail is possible, almost too much, like people make too much money from that.

But the real change was what was in between the lines.

The hidden meaning in the writing.

Only visible, or audible when calling upon the name of the Lord.

When desperately seeking Him.

Like reading & applying gave me a fraction of the value, but there was this additional factor which was exponentially more beneficial.

Spiritual fruit benefits. More love, more joy, more peace.

Not speakable, but demonstrable.

And so I did.

Ferociously.

Chapter 5

In Christ I Thrive

At first, in typical adam fashion, I didnt notice how evident the change within me was.

But apparently the change is noticeable.

People around me began to treat me differently.

Within months, those which ran from me began to draw near.

First, my father in law, which once saw his daughter in the trenches with a maniac, began to see the progress, and pin pointed exactly why:

The loud call to the Holy Spirit, speaking in His language, waiting patiently for his response, not allowing the distraction of vices to block the sync.

And it was He, the Spirit which then began to speak to me through his body here on earth.

Validation that the battle was won, which as much as I did try to convince myself I did not need, I did though very much appreciate.

The spoils of victory for the sake of those I lead were necessities.

Kids learn from spirit speak.

And the spoils of a spirital battle won speak more then 10,000 books.

For the record though, my life didnt turn perfect.

My perspective & faith isnt bullet proof, I am not a saint.

I still dont 100% get it and at times I fall back into old patterns.

However my kids see the spoils which came from the direction and trajectory when heading in the opposite direction of the evil one.

But being closer to the truth reveled in the word is, and continuing my trajectory in the direction seems to be the major factor in my quality of life.

And for the sake of my wife, and for the sake of my kids, and for the sake of those which will come after me, they should see the progress, the strength, the riches which He has bestowed upon those which rely on Him, and wander towards Him.

And so therefore, this validation came as I began to receive free gifts, objects of the most random but thoughtful kind.

For example, like free stays at peoples vacation homes, or an inversion table, or the jersey of my favorite player.

In my open vulnerability, down 25 pounds, people were somehow reading me so well and desperate for what I had found.

Or they too had been down a similar path and were prompted to sympathy.

Perhaps theirs was a gift at some sort of alter.

Not an alter to honor me by any means, that was obvious as the comments about “the crazy guy” still flew, and continue to, are to keep me in check, but rather the gifts were meant to honor what was alive and truly working through us both.

It was as if they new I had both the edge to kill, but the experience and realization of complete and uter brokenness which tempers, refines.

While fully capable of the unspeakable revenge I had once prepared for and justified by all worldy standards, yet death, murder, destruction was fleeing from me.

New life was springing up within.

Peace was now upon me, and growing.

My now abundant soul, fulfilled only by the hope of Jesus Christ, was speaking inaudibly to the world around me.

The way in which horse people can speak to horses, I continued to speak to people.

Like when real recognizes real.

I continued to see through their human form, and into their spiritual beings.

There are so many heavily influenced souls longing for answers. A tender spirit sees that.

Souls which were regurgitating & proliferating the answers they previously found, regardless of if they were right or not, regardless of if that source was out for peace or out for destruction.

Who could know anyways what right and wrong were? Things are complex.

The world around me which once seemed so mathematical, organic, biological, became supernatural.

How we communicated to one another was so much more dynamic then I ever realized.

The concept of syncs which seemed so scienticic, and electrical, began to become more dynamic, more spirittual.

I began to really try to listen and observe this more.

All of this sitting, reading, listening, observing was edifying.

By this point, stoop boy had a song in his heart. Albeit cheesy and a bit odd to any normal person.

But at this point I really didnt care. I dont like the patters of what normal today even means.

Instead I wanted to sing back to the world around me.

However, I dont sing. But a country boy does love nature and longs to sit in it.

Have you heard the birds tho? The way in which they coo? As stoop boy I had enough time to notice.

The morning dove lands on the same branch, facing the same way, on the same day of year, singing the same line.

“Hello, are you there, you there, you there?”

Again it repeats until received and responds with

“Hello, I am here, do you hear me””

“Yes I hear you.” “I hear you”.

“I see you.” “I see you”

“Come here”.

Being a country boy, I can mimic the coo quite well.

Being stoop boy, I had the time to notice the communication patterns.

I practiced calling back and it worked well.

They began showing up. Landing in the same spot, at the same time of day. Singing the same song, “Hello, I am here, do you hear me?”

I would respond, we would sync, they would come closer.

Even going as far as landing on my objects, and waking me up at my window above my bed. Looking me straight in the eye.

While still sore and lethargic, I would pass the time talking to new friends.

My wife and kids got a “hoot” from it.

They began to see this new found sense and after making fun of it, later began to recognize its uniqueness.

All while they were cracking joke, I was contemplating and piecing together humans and if they have basic communication patters.

I observe and conclude our souls speak dynamically through timing, location, direction, scents, to whom we are calling out to, who comes first, who waits for the other to come. These are all additional forms of communication. Perhaps more articulate then whats said. Its not just whats mentioned above, but so much more.

I started really being conscious of my body posture.

The time of day I woke up.

The consistency as to which I did things.

The tone of my voice.

The eyes which I looked with.

People really began to notice.

Like if I was a horse person for people before, then all of the sudden I became a people person for people. hmmm not really sure how to make that point. But it was on another level.

I continued to study this topic. First my wife, then creepily others. Observations were fascinating.

For example, my wife’s family communicates dramatically different then mine. They co talk. Like each other are talking over the other finishing each others sentences and with one half sentence at a time from each person, in a fast pace. Its like a run on sentence song with jabs and energy. My family, specifically the men, generally speaking say one thing like every 30 mins, slow and calm. The two songs couldnt be more different.

Noting these differences was step one, attempting to speak her language was step two. While I didnt get much better at the verbal, the other inaudible language was well received.

My constancy, my timing, my tone, my stance was never better.

She noticed and her spirit began to sing.

Her song began to shine.

This seems to have had spoken to something even more spiritual because the resonating song came back in mysterious ways, over and over, not just from my wife but to my wife.

The Holy Spirit began to speak.

Often to others around me, and which they then came to tell me, or my wife, in the most peculiar ways.

I continue to listen to the language.

To learn this, the pain was worth it.

There is more then just my purpose to live for, but His purpose. Far greater then a philosophy book.

Now that I am closer to healing, now that I am closer to ones I love, speaking their language, audible and inaudible, I am now focused on living it out.

Manifesting this in my mortal flesh.

Chapter 6

Pick Up Sticks

If something really did change, then it should be evident.

Not for the sake of making it visible to others.

But for the sake of proving it to myself, my wife, and my kids.

I had fallen to my own tricks in the past.

Like self righteousness.

Like when I thought murdering my adversaries was the best next step.

Like when I thought it was my own duty to shout down the worst in others, only to realize it was myself being the largest part of the problem.

And so now it has to be different.

And I crave proof, steady proof of the difference over time.

And because humans are too complex for me too fathom, this proof should be to myself, and my wife and kids should see it too.

That seemed to be the best thing I could give them.

That being them seeing the transformation, which would have them then ponder and recall the source.

2019 - present

In 2019 I began writing on the walls to cope.

The first images, when I really started losing it, are sloppy nonsense.

However, I tried to envision what better might look like, my to do lists, totally far out thought that are 100% wrong and to vent.

Writing helped me cope, make sense of things.

To clean things up.

I think that process is evident and I appreciate the process, in hind sight at least.

This is part of my self proof.

The process.

2019 - Present

At first I jumped into spend more time with my kids whilst contemplating ending it all.

I smoked blunts in the church parking lot to have enough muscle relaxation to make it onto the court.

Over time as, I began to notice things, I started to point out and correct.

I couldnt help but see kids that were fat, scatter brained, soft and emotionally weak.

As people often do, they see the problems in others that they themselves also are struggling with.

I started to encourage them the best I could.

I needed to hear it myself, the encouragement and the discipline.

My sons would call me on it when I didnt live by my own code.

This really helped me grow as a dad.

Here is a quick draft of the lessons I passed to the kids I coach. I hope to elaborate but, the lessons I learned were probably already written by someone else.

• The competition is within, therefor compete against your former self daily, without playing up or down to the competition. To relate to the little kids I tell them its like the one game in in mario kart, where you are racing against your own personal record. I called it “ghost mode”. The goal isnt who is in front of you on the court, but the goal is to beat your PR. Instead of dreaming about making the final shot of the game and idolizing this as the goal, the goal should be perfecting and then again re-perfecting the skill, to set a benchmark of ones best, and to then keep raising the bench march steadily. And to beat your PR, you must look inward, and then

• Its about focusing on the small details, and forgetting about the score, or how much time is left, or the roar of the crowd, but instead to start asking oneself “what am I doing in this very moment, what is my stance, where are my feet, where are my hands, where is my attention, am I going 110% effort, each and every second?” Because these details are what matters more in the long run. However, to retain such focus, and attention to the small details, and to study oneself with this level of Kobe Bryant like detail, we need to be mentally sharp. One way to do this is to limit screen time. Specifically,

• No screens the night before or the day of a game, it deteriorates your motivation, in fact, if you want anything, completely restrict your screen time. Its like it rewires us, for example, if I noticed my sons watch too much screens, I noticed they certainly performed worse over the next two days. If the simple ask of limiting screen time is too much, if you cant, then you simply dont want it enough and therefore you wont get it. Because

• Its not the largest wolf in the pack which gets the bone, but the wolf which wants it the most. Mental toughness determines the majority of success in youth sports. And the hungriest wolf in the pack says to his inward self “I can and will do anything I can to eat.” I tell this to these kids when there is a 50/50 ball, or a rebound, that its not the tallest, or the strongest, or the fastest but the kid who wants it the most that gets it. They need to hear this because, many of them dont actually know why they are there. Most, like way over 50% of the kids in youth sports are there because their parents want them off of screens, they want them socializing, out of the house, and to toughen up because the sugary food has made them pudgy. However,

• “Daddy ball” exists when a parent wants their child to succeed more then the kid does. For example, the parent will pull every string possible to get the kid to practice, in a brand new pair of $120 shoes, film the games, call the coach with advice, secretly advocating for his kids, and on and on. Eventually its obvious to everyone, definitely first the coach, then the other parents, then the other kids, then eventually including the kid himself and eventually far later the parent himself. It become obvious when the parent’s ability to influence fizzles and he sees his puppet with no puppeteer. They both, the kid and parent, should know this effect before its too late. For the record, part of me doesnt blame the parent though, not completely, we all love and advocate for our kids. And we know what they need and naturally we do what we can. But sometimes its a fine line between what we give them and what they have to learn themselves. I believe that more and more parents seem to be shifting to the extreme side of this line which has us paying $30K in AAU fees. All that and most kids to fizzle in 9th grade. Its becoming obvious, I believe, because

• Parents are desperately looking for ways to toughen up their kids. I tell the kids I coach, “My theory is that parents are subconsciously getting their kids ready for the ensuing competition that life is about to smack them in the face with. Like all of us parents which have seen our lives flipped upside down by globalization and migrations and inflation and tech and all these major shifts in society are beginning to realize that if our kids dont learn to compete they definitely dont stand a chance.” This is my theory because I see these major shifts and it impacts my perspective and I do think this way. And since I believe we need this culture of competition to make the kids thrive, my kids thrive, and since I believe it so much so that I am signing up for every coaching opportunity so some slouch doesnt rub off on my kid, and since all that, I tell the kids I coach about this story which helps me say so much more then I could articulate in a practice. It goes like this, after we lose a game due to weak effort or poor culture, I start the next practice like this: “Hey kids I want to tell you about my favorite basketball lesson. Let me tell you about

• Jimmer Ferdette’s father who didnt appreciate how soft his son was playing due to the weak culture and athlete’s surrounding him. He knew his son could perform better but couldnt relied on his son’s teammates to pull it out of him.

• And so he checked his son into the local prison to play against inmates. Can you imagine if your dad did that to you? Can you imagine walking into prison to play against some gangsters? How intimidating! The shouting & the fights would challenge your mental state, right? You wouldnt walk into the prison the same way you walked into this gym tonight, thats for sure. Can you imaging the physical nature of the prison style of ball? It would shape your footwork and therefore would change your moves. You cant drive to the lane and not expect a forearm to the chest. While it might be tough to withstand the intimidation and the physicality, if one accepts it and continues to focus within, it would in turn bring out a tougher mentality and produce a more resilient player. Which is exactly what happened to Jimmer who went on to be one of NCAA’s best basketball players.” I tell them this to make them aware of and to elevate the culture they bring to their teammates. That how

• They speak to each other and they style they play with has a deep impact on their teammates around them. I dont say this specifically, but they subconsciously will realize they could be either Jimmer or his teammates in this analogy. I also dont say this, but

• I aim to change my world’s future culture by elevating the kids I coach. The kids dont know this yet, but culture proceeds law. And in current day, the culture of softies has made evil legal. All of this is a bit much for kids athletics, perhaps too much to impact and too hero’istic a plan for one person, but given my brokeness, and seeing the evils we are all contributing to in society, by not routing out of ourselves first, and given the lessons God taught me to work these patterns into my own life, and the transformative impact it had on me, and how divine just an ounce of His inspairation is, and how eternally impactful it is,

• Why wouldnt I give it all I have? I believe I am on the front lines of fighting this evil, and this is my best opportunity to contribute to a better society 30 years from now. In essence, as I start to “preach” to these kids, I realize I am stuck between lofty thoughts I am ill equipt to sort out. And so I go right to the source of this message I gave the kids in the first place, the one I needed to hear myself:
  
  

• The competition is within

  • James 1:2-4 “2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,[a] whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

  • Colossians 3:23 “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men”

  • 2nd Corinthians 10:12 “…when they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding.”

• Its about focusing on the small details

  • Luke 16:10 “One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much.”

  • Matthew 25:21 “His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’

• No screens

  • Galatians 5:16-17 “But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do.”

  • 1st Peter 5:8 “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”

  • Romans 12:2 “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

• Its not the largest wolf in the pack which gets the bone, but the wolf which wants it the most

  • Proverbs 13:4. “Lazy people want much but get little, but those who work hard will prosper.”

  • Proverbs 12:11 ““Those who work their land will have abundant food, but those who chase fantasies have no sense.”

  • 2nd Thessalonians 3:10-12 “For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: ‘The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.’ We hear that some among you are idle and disruptive. They are not busy; they are busybodies. Such people we command and urge in the Lord Jesus Christ to settle down and earn the food they eat.”

• “Daddy ball” exists when a parent wants their child to succeed more then the kid does.

  • 1 Samuel 2:29 “Why then look with greedy eye at my sacrifices and my offerings that I commanded, and honor your sons more than me by fattening yourselves on the choicest parts of every offering of my people Israel?”

  • Colossians 3:21 “Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.”

• Parents are desperately looking for ways to toughen up their kids.

  • Proverbs 27:17 “Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.”

• Jimmer Ferdette’s father who didnt appreciate how soft his son was playing And so he checked his son into the local prison to play against inmates.

  • A good parent knows what they need, Matthew 7:9-11 “Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!”

• They speak to each other and they style they play with has a deep impact on their teammates around them

  • Proverbs 18:21 "Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits."

  • James 3:5-6 "So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great things. How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness."

• I aim to change my world’s future culture by elevating the kids I coach

  • Proverbs 22:6 "Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it."

  • Proverbs 9:9 "Give instruction to a wise man, and he will be still wiser; teach a righteous man, and he will increase in learning."

• Why wouldnt I give it all I have?

  • Hebrews 12:1-2 “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.”

  • Colossians 3:23-24 "Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ."

  • Galatians 6:9 "And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up."

As I preach to myself, what is transforming me, is transforming them.

For the record, for each kid, my impact was quite minimal.

Most kids had pretty good parents already.

I live in a good town and therefore to get here one has to be top notch.

But if evil can take a small factional hold in many, and it can add up to a major strong hold for the prince of darkness, then…

…then I will joyfully compete against it.

And what is alive in me, slowly refining, will go to work in them.

 And while I continue to wrestle with myself over my own convictions,

about wether or not I am seeing the progress I want to see,

and if I am even making a difference,

in myself and the community I am coaching in,

I was asked by a good friend to join him on a missions trip to go serve kids in need.

Timely request, and so I went.

Service Trip to
Word of Life
Panama

Service Trip Summary 

PANAMA - On January 14th 2024 a team of 12 volunteers from the Bible Chapel, located in McMurray Pennsylvania, traveled to serve under privileged youth at the Word of Life’s Panamanian campus for their summer camps.

The first of seven camps was offered to kids from local impoverished areas, such as Curundú & Veracruz. Theses children received scholarships from generous monetary donors, awarding them camp admission free of charge. At camp the children were fed three meals a day, given clothing to take home, and most importantly introduced to the hope and freedom offered via the “light of Jesus.”

During the week, 83 of the 160 children verbally accepted Jesus as their Lord and committed themselves to a new mindset, way of life, and eternal trajectory.

Details about the camper’s depravity

Regarding the living conditions of the children who were selected for scholarship: “Many of these campers do not have fathers present within their homes and are eating at most one meal a day” says Traci Cotton the camp’s director. She went on to insinuate many of the camper’s mothers are often suffering from addiction and or making their wage via selling themselves. A recent news article also cites the camper’s living conditions “unbearable“ & “unspeakable.”

Details about the mission

The mission to “Brilla la luz de Jesus” which translates to “Shine the light of Jesus” was demonstrated through Bible lessons, musicals, and small group meetings.

Campers attended skits which presented the Gospel. Pictured above, the Bible verse Romans 12:16 “Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.” The kids were receptive to a new way of life and the hope offered in Jesus Christ.

All children eagerly participated in worship.

The camp counselors reinforced the message during small group meetings. The campers were asked tough questions such as “What troubles your life?” to which most cited “family” related pain. The counselors, many of which previously attended on scholarship week, pointed to their hope found in Jesus.

That hope was evident at the camp. Below are pictures of the fun activities aimed to provide an outlet for the kids.

A friendly soccer match.

After day of games, the camp counselors performed skits. The crowd of kids could not stop dancing to the worship music. The presentation of the Gospel was electric.

Following a night of worship music, campers were given sticks to throw into a large fire, symbolizing the purification process when letting go of one’s past pain and following Jesus.

A carnival during the final night of the week. Gracious clothing donations from Upper Saint Clair & South Fayette School districts were given as carnival prizes.

Adael from Veracruz.

Campers went home with full bellies and wearing brand new jerseys. They were encouraged to continue to shine the light of Jesus.

And those who served went home with full spirits. John 12:26 “Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be….”

Details about the camp

Word of Life Panama, located 1.5 hours drive from Panama City’s airport, was founded in 1992 by Mirko & Traci Delibasich. One of the highlights of the Word of Life ministry is the summer camp which attracts as many as 1,500 youth each year. Throughout the year the ministry also includes Bible Clubs, drama presentations, and Children's Shows as well as sports marathons, and other evangelistic outreaches. They also minister to orphanages and indigenous tribes.

The facility includes housing for 200+ and includes large covered multi purpose building + kitchen, swimming pool, gymnasium, zip-line and other amenities suitable for large gatherings. Opportunities to rent the grounds are available. Proceeds from rentals go towards the Word of Life missions. If interested, please call +1-518-494-6329.

Please donate to the camp

The scholarship week needs donors. The camp needs repairs. The missionaries need support. No donation is too small :)

Personal reflections:

• A little bit goes a long way: At one point I gave a boy a quarter to buy a soda. He started crying. It was evident he didn't have much and was extremely grateful. Introspectively, it really wasn't just the the quarter. It didn't take that much of me to go out of my way to serve. It didn't require that much to give my time and effort. But I saw first hand how far a little went. This is the power of the holy spirit. When things are done with pure, holy and right intentions, in the name of Jesus, we are merely conduits channeling power from an eager, divine source. The impact is compounding.

• On two separate occasions boys came to me and asked me to be their dad. Overwhelmed I knelt down, hugged them and struggled to find the words. All I could do was mention we are brothers in Christ with one father who is far more than I could ever be. Felt both the right thing to say and not enough.

• There is healing power in the presence of Jesus: When so many people call out his name, the energy is different, because he and his spirit are present. Being around it is contagious. Healing properties are the worship, community, mindset, hope, and so much more, of which conjure a spirit. The fruits of this spirit heal anxiety, depression, fatigue, materialism, lack of purpose, mania, and egocentricity. For who has time to dwell in these imperfections when so much growth is right in front of you. You can't not walk away a better person as you are an average of the company you keep. For example, when two boys in my cabin, Francico and Eyden first met they instantaneously started fist fighting and did so for the first 3 days. By the time they left they were hugging and best friends.

• If you are interested in volunteering, I highly recommend it. Took my daughter and plan to take my other children. They need this perspective. It does something unexplainable. It will pay dividends on the back end. Here additional pictures to help articulate.

• On our way back to the airport we drove through Curundú. Past the police check points, which gladly welcomed the vans with Word of Life logo, pass the trash heap and street casinos, we saw Bradley rock’in a USC jersey.

 Chapter 7

Go now

I realized I desperately needed out of the house.

I should have realized this earlier.

I did make attempts to and got better and better at it.

I bought a large van so I could stand up or lay down when out with the family but still stay out of the weather elements.

Made some subtle utilitarian modifications.

It was my attempt to shield myself from the triggers and rest when they came on strong.

And also my attempt to show my kids something.

Some new perspectives.

Not everyone has these bunny trails I do.

So they should see some things to get some better perspectives.

Recalling a great family vacation, the one I thought was my last hurrah, I bought a van.

Because on that last hurrah I lived and loved like it was the end.

I put plane tickets, the hotels, the rental and the weed on credit cards.

We drove from San Fran to San Diego.

It was heavenly.

I took a million pictures.

Seeing the end insight I wanted my kids to have joyful pictures they could look back to when they were coping with my passing.

Every moment was captured.

Phographicaly and from my own raw memory.

Locked in.

Forever.

Living like I'm dying.

And with that we stepped into the new van.

And we hit the road. Many times.

Chapter 8

Working unto the lord

Preface:

How was it that I was bent off prednizone, 80 MG daily, ready for war and yet still employed?

Its interesting that mania correlates to success in the work force: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC2813700/

For the record, I was already good at my job, not like rock star great, but good and the mania almost helped make me better at some things, like for example tasks.

It definitely didnt help with my people skills but I had a technical job in data science and the majority of us are the least polished of them all.

I was good enough at my job and the fact that I didnt need to be a people person meant that I had a huge buffer to completely lose my mind without the threat of losing my job.

It did however impact my ability to be promoted, to keep a clean reputation, to be the best I could.

But due to a variety of factors I was still putting food on the table.

And there were many factors at play. Many.

Some factors I admire. Some I dont.

Considering my racing mind, I rethought these factors and used them to my advantage.

Subsequently I tripled my salary.

130K to 400k+ annually for 2 years now.

And indefinitely if I want.

But dont let that fool you, it wasnt about the money, the most valuable thing was the personal growth from denying myself in chapter 4, the living through Christ in chapter 5, the proving to myself I am playing for the right team in chapter 6, and the head space I got in chapter 7.

Whilst I live out chapter 9, I will chip away at writing chapter 8.

First, this is not prosperity gospel. Listening to this wont make you worldly rich.

Rather it will set you free. And give you space to grow spiritual fruit, and become truly wealthly.

Second, this is not gospel. That already exists.

Third, this certainly isnt for everyone, as most people are simply soft.

Most people source their strength from within, while mine is outsourced to a higher power.

……..

Chapter 8:

While injured and sick I still maintained my job and watched as the leftist agenda grew at a rapid pace in my workplace.

About this time was when I first started writing Chapter 1: Sarcoid’s Void like content.

The work force was progressive, especially within the technology industry I work in.

A new tone was rapidly advancing and consuming the spaces and environments I worked within.

For example, and one of the first major signs of it during my time, was the Women In Tech movement.

In the beginning, and some what still, I dont see it as that big of a deal.

Sure, women are not really well represented in the tech sector.

Its not entirely terrible to call it out and articulate why.

Its is though very important what you do to change it.

And so women took it upon themselves to start organizing, which that alone is certainly within their rights and admirable to advocate for what they care about.

Where it gets sticky is when that occurs during actual work hours.

Especially when people are meeting to discuss how they might take more of a share of the total jobs.

I recall sitting at my desk, and the only two employees which I managed, got up, and walked out to a conference room in another building for over 2 hours.

I am certainly not a micromanager and so I thought to myself whatever.

They have annual goals, so weekly distractions are not really even a problem.

But I did eventually find out more because as they came back, gleaming with smiles from ear to ear, they were boldly discussing their plans to hire more women.

With a sense of innocent authenticity, I turned my swivel chair to listen into the office chatter.

However, there was a new tune and immediately I felt disassociated.

They were clearly locking eyes, intentionally excluding me from the conversation.

OK OK not a huge deal. I’m not a micromanager AND I was in middle school once, I'm a big boy not really worried about it too much.

As I turn my chair back towards my computer and refocused on my work at hand, I couldn't help but be distracted.

Distracted because my entire data science department of just two direct reports was made up of only women.

Our department wasn't gonna grow, not anytime soon.

The only way to change our department of three (two females one male) was to get rid of me.

I feel pretty good about my positioning at the work place.

No one out hustles me.

If I had to stay at my desk indefinitely to secure my positions I would.

And I did more all nighters then anyone I know.

I have a competitive drive & a team at home to hustle for.

And so I wasn't necessarily feeling threatened.

I was more so like, hey what gives.

I found it incredibly contradictory.

I found the entire topic hypocritical, ignorant, childish, power tripping, divisive, and entitled.

This ignorance completely ignores those that I represent.

The first and most obvious are the two women that I hired over the 15 men & 5 women that I interviewed.

They completely ignored the fact that I hired them not because of their gender, but simply because they were the best.

Their new philosophy also ignores the fact that I am at work representing three women in my home.

As I step into the workforce as a family man, I am representing & competing for more than just myself, but those that I feed, clothe and provide shelter for.

Something they who were young and unbridled couldn’t fathom.

Despite, it was very clear and obvious that I was not a part of the conversation.

I do recall their mission wasnt as much about me though, rather expanding far outside of our 3 personal department.

Another point I couldnt fathom.

What differentiate the departments they aimed to advocate for and the ones they didnt was simply the number of women…

What about the plently of women dominated departments?

Are we just going to ignore the fact cause it doesn’t fit the story?

We had some female dominated departments, like marketing & merchandising & site merchandising.

The honest facts are, aside from this detail, these two women were amazing colleagues, in every way, and many of my other colleagues too.

Especially before the meetings.

Generally we agreed upon everything.

But when it came to this topic, and the other similar topics which began to evolve next, we weren’t on the same page.

Like what ever was rubbing off on them in these meetings was a new spirit.

A spirit of divisiveness.

When they came back, their lingering vibe was different.

Like a pep rally for idiocracy.

“You are an average of the company you keep”

And these gatherings would have a long term decay on the character of those in attendance.

We used to work collaboratively.

But after months of the company’s women slipping away and planning in multiple two hour sessions, their different spirits began to grow.

Skepticism set in, sexism was a common topic, and many females began asking divisive questions.

As this trend grew amongst my broader department, so did the company wide trend and the meetings invite had at this point been sent to everyone.

Apparently, they're no longer accepting just women into the meeting, but allies and advocates of all genders, as in the only other gender.

Though, there was only one type of man which would join.

Men of a very particular type, the ones with weak hand shakes.

The type of man who doesn't look you in the eyes for more then a half a second.

The ones who don't make it on the basis of the value they bring into the workplace, but the manipulative, gossiper ones which survive on the basis of narrative constructs, kinda like that one guy in Game of Thrones. I think they call him little finger.

Like the kind of guy who has no moral compass, except for the direction that benefits him.

Anyways, he/him, you know who I mean.

As the now “inclusive” invite came through my inbox, there was absolutely nothing in me that could get up and go to that meeting.

The spirit in which these two lovely girls came back with was the opposite of what I thought I knew them to be.

These two girls which were super originally humble, kind, gentle, and incredibly intelligent, had been taken over by a spirit that which was aggressive, divisive, shallow, small and manipulative.

I did not, would not, and will never go to a meeting like that.

And so as the conversation evolved and the male allies and aggressive females began to conspire.

The growing crowd must've become close to 50% of the company.

At this particular point in my career, I really didn't care too much. I had other things to worry about.

As time went on now, topics like this grew in number, and in breath.

IDK which was first, but before long it was blacks in the workforce, asians in the workforce, and then eventually people with particular sexual preferences in the workforce.

Also its not just meetings any more but to events, parades, clothing lines.

I kid you not it's also owners of pets. Like now every Friday was dedicated to bring your dog to work day.

In which this particular movement was not just confined to conference rooms, but to the entire office place where the dogs could roam freely.

Bark freely and shit and piss freely.

First off I'm allergic to dogs, and plenty of people are too, so this doesn't feel so inclusive to me to have my coworker bring his super shaggy dog which smells and causes me breathing concerns.

But somehow things like this became normal.

Side note, coming from first hand experience, what was once weird then rapidly becomes normal are the signs of severely broken people and mental disease.

To me, there is just no other way to describe this rapid change in workforce culture but a complication brokeness due to frail minded, and easily manipulated people.

Like these highly capable, amazing people people were intended to do something meaningful.

How couldnt they? They are convinced due to great pay and cushy work/life balance that they’ve made it. Yet the massive hole in their shallow hearts reminds them there is more.

And these calls to action on social issues were so moving and they jumped right in, easily swayed.

But what if their call to something meaningful was diverted for some perverted reason.

My theory, the pet affection and social movements has to be some sort of misguided affection.

Again not relying on peer reviewed white papers to stake a n opinion claim as there are enough to argue every side because every side pays their reviewers.

The claim, a dog will fill this emotionally void soul instead of doing something meaningful of which you were designed to do.

Or instead of realizing as a women you are under represented or assume you’re under appareciated in the work force, maybe its because you would find more value for yourself raising a child.

And my co-workers missed out on a phenomenal opportunity to, idk like have a husband or have a kid or give back to the community, and now they are distracted and all speeding down self affirming paths of division and destruction.

And then eventually it decays their mind even more so into thinking patters way down,

in the opposite direction of healing, into a bunny trail of thoughts that lead to nothing meaningfull,

like for example, that there are others which love dogs like family, and I work with them and then were all like family and we should celebrate together our love for dogs.

Like an iterative of the furry conventions.

Ok, ok, ok, let me just stop myself before I go much further.

I dont care to try to find a diagnosis, or to try to over explain why these people are rapidly transforming what was once normal to the weirdest of ways, but its as plain as day, at least to me, my coworkers in corporate America are broken.

And as for the other internal advocacy groups, the women in tech, the blacks in tech, the asians in tech, idk.

I dont want to be ignorant and blow smoke.

I can not and should not call out their causes much further then a short rant.

But how could I care to refocus from my own struggles onto theirs, and advocate for their so called mission, or pet their dogs, when I simply dont care to?

Why should I care anyways?

After all, any one who gos through life eventually struggles, so isnt it our burden to bare our own?

Isnt that life?

Its not up to me to sort out their own brokeness and how to fix it.

Instead I must stay focused on myself, as I was dealing with my own issues, like not feeling my feet. Like becoming toxic. Like beginning to hate everyone.

The honest truth is most of those people attending those meetings and bringing their dogs to the office are simply doing so because they get the opportunity to put off doing meaningful work and not sit at their desk.

I whole heartedly believe that if you enforced employees to remain in their seats, and work, and do these events after hours literately no one would go.

Regardless, I do sit at my desk.

A complete contrast from now more then 50% of the workforce.

And as I sit, I can't help but think of the competitive advantage I do now have over 50% of my weak and whining colleagues now falling to every new distraction.

The economist in me has so much to compare.

Me vs them.

Me vs the world now.

Me & and the hours I work vs the they/them and they hours they/them dont work.

If I take the four hours a month for the women in tech initiative and add that to the four hours a month for all the other initiatives combined, I've literally worked one more day a month than the 25%-50% of my colleagues who are attending those meetings!

And when I really start to focus and narrow in on those who are attending those meetings, I realize there's far more than just eight hours monthly that separates us.

The same individuals are the ones who come in at nine and leave right at five.

It's that same characteristic, that just-a-worker mentality, that which says I'm only here to get a paycheck and its that which unites every single person in this ever growing group of duds….

Duds… or grey like beings…. half dead zombies or programed bots….

Absolutely every single one of them lacks what I call ownership mentality.

The entrepreneurial spirit that we should all be working with even when working for a boss.

What made America, what made our most successful ancestors, what makes good people.

The now greater then 50% of the company, when looking at the entire population of they/them and generalizing a large bit, was the least productive of all of us.

Fast forward even more so, to when my health completely tanked.

This was taking place while I was living through Chapter 1: Sarcoid’s Void and Chapter 2: Simply Toyed.

During this growing leftist movement, I began to succumb to it as well.

While I searched for medical help, after 70+ doctor visits in 3 years, I eventually broke down and joined the movement from a completely different angle— I began to take their meds.

My chest “cramping” was diagnosed as anxiety.

So the SSRIs were prescribed and I changed dramatically.

I went from “entrepreneurial” minded, to “socialistic” minded.

Originally the country boy in me was like, “what can I do to better me?” but then the meds changed me to think like “I’m a victim, and what can my others do for me?”

Later I then succumbed to the leftist propaganda, I too bought into other lies.

As proof, for example, I started hating trump, dang I cant believe I have to admit that sin.

And then the rest of the meds, like methotrexate, destroyed my immune system.

As described in prior chapters, I became sensitive & toxic, literally.

Those leftists, of which I became, I’ll just call us furries, are nasty to be around.

We were so divided and we didnt even realize we were all the same in our “victim” mindset.

All while I was angry at them for their lack of hygiene covered in pet dander and hair,

or while I was angry at them for their divisive conversation and assumptions that it was ok to leave work to do nothing when ever they wanted,

all while this, I some how forgot my original approach,

that which was to ignore it and use it to my advantage.

Instead the meds made me twisted and bitter.

My new approach was to no longer care.

If they could smell like dog shit and let it ‘accidentally’ defecate in the office,

if they could openly express themselves with sexual preference flags,

if they could talk their way our of all work tickets and reassign problems to anyone else,

then surely I could smoke a blunt at lunch in the office stair well and not care about my weed smell coming back to my desk.

After all, I am outworking, outpacing, outperforming them by all accounts.

Lets be honest, this ambiguity on whats really a culture norm now should go both ways.

After all, I dont identify as a woman, a black, an asian, a person of unique sexual preferences, but I do identify as someone in a lot of pain and just trying to cope.

So I tried to see what privilege I could ask for too.

But it didnt completely go both ways.

Considering the meds were messing with my eyes even more so and the LED lights were cause my eyes to glitch and lose color perceptions,

And then considering 8 months of low does chemo was causing me to choke at my desk from the dog dander & dust,

And considering I needed to smoke here and there to get by,

Considering all that I asked HR for the privilege to use one of the multiple open offices.

My plan as I told them was to run an air purifier, dim the lights, get away from the windows as I could feel each storm in my soul, and this should help stop the triggers, and then the pain cycles.

However this was denied considering the expensive testing they did revealed no mold, no dander, no dust above acceptable levels.

Likely also denied because I was off the rails and that kinda person shouldnt be rewarded.

Regardless, the HR department decided to demolish one of the offices to make an all gender bathroom.

Mind you we only had two genders on the floor of ~80 people.

Mind you none of us were so confused that they couldnt properly identify their gender.

It was a bathroom that if used was only for the joke of it.

Absolute insanity, on my part, and on the part of employeer.

As time went on, I wore out, unable to hide from the pain, unable to hide from my toxicity towards my colleagues,

I began crying, weeping in the hallways I ran to to smoke.

Many coworkers saw this.

It was embarrassing.

Fast forward, my bosses, thankfully offered the opportunity to work from home.

Without this, eventually I would have lost my job.

I am very grateful for them because of this. I was really a blessing.

It also was, not realizing at first, also a burden to navigate.

A burden because I was home while the collaboration was in the office, so I lost out on projects, lost connection to the colleagues, then lost connection to the world.

A blessing because I wasnt going to accidentally spout off about the ridiculousness.

A blessing because I wasnt being triggered.

A burden because I became really isolated.

At first it was great, smoking and working!

I was very productive! … at first.

At first I was actually 3 months a head of my road maps & project plans.

My boss quite literally told me to slow down so the rest of the people I worked with could catch up and integrate what I worked on.

Nice!

However, without the mental distraction, the opportunity to be productive, my mind continued to wander.

Weed will do that. Toxic med will send you the wrong way.

While sitting in my office, alone, not up to much but suffering, life was becoming way different.

The walls got smaller.

Especially when I started sleeping in my office.

And somehow time slipped, like I didnt even blink and it was 9 months later.

Without realizing time passed, I then realized it did, and somehow I was behind.

Late. Because I couldn’t focus past the pain any more.

Paranoid. Like about the conversations at work that had to have been happening, about me, and without me.

Like the continued fear of being fired at any point in the day.

Toxic. Because I thought they were out for me.

I penned a nasty email to HR about everything I saw wrong.

I look back at that now embarrassed.

Fast forward, Chapter 2: Simply Toyed I realize I have a neck injury, and then bam— covid.

All of my colleagues got sent home and the playing field was leveled.

The fear and panic and struggle to cope with a ‘new normal’ that was my daily became their daily.

My boss, on a video call, at like 9:45am in week 3 of the new normal, seemed to have forgotten he was on a video call.

He picked up a glass of wine, accidentally pulled it into frame, then realized what he had done.

He was smooth and so he tried to play it off.

He pleaded with those on the call, that they too need to do what they need to do to cope.

And he claimed these are drastic times… and so therefore we should be forgiving of ourselves and each other.

It was in that moment that I realized, my mind bending circumstances were eventually setting me up to be far more prepared for the future then the average coworker.

It didnt 100% seem like it in the moment, as I was still very behind in many ways, but I knew I was at least further into the struggle then most.

I knew I would eventually surpass my whoas, and when the time was right dominate again, and was eager for my up and coming surgery to prove it.

Fast forward, Chapter 3: Not Yet Me.

Fast forward, a lengthy multi month recovery.

Mentally and physically, and still, years later at the time of writing, spiritually.

Fast forward through the sitting in silence of Chapter 4: Healing.

Fast forward to me realizing that I was able to see the depths of the faults in others around me because I too had such deep faults.

Fast forward to myself realizing that the faults we see in others are other the same struggles we our selves struggle with.

Fast forward to the realization that my obsession with other’s problems were the same problems I too struggle with but mine are simply presented in less obvious ways.

Condemning.

Humbling.

Fast forward through the reading of the Word.

Fast forward into my new mindset.

Fast fast fast forward.

The one produced by the rewiring of my bad habits & thought patterns which were divisive, ignortant, hypocritical and into what the Word rewires me into.

Fast forward into the moments when I wanted to prove to myself.

About 6 months after the surgery I started taking baby steps.

Building.

I didnt know completely what was building in my spirit, but WOW I could feel the momentum on my side again.

For the first time in a long time, I began saying hello to neighbors again.

Started coaching more.

Gently taking baby steps back into society in a renewed mindset.

And then, I began speaking back up in work meetings.

“Hey boss, heard this thing needs done, can I help?”

Then crush what ever he said asap.

Stuck in that phase for a couple months.

The more I got my hands dirty again with work the more I started realizing that the conversations I was paranoid about not being in actually weren’t even occurring and most up keep simply just wasn’t being done.

So I started politely calling it out.

Asking my boss to help advocate for the upkeep.

Sure enough, he said yes.

Then it became me leading the upkeep.

Then when net new work came in, it was obvious for me to lead it.

Sick, within like 6 months I was top of my small sub department of like 6 or so.

Not enough though, I had so much more to prove to myself.

So I started thinking about my boss’s bosses toughest challenge.

Before the health spiral, he mentioned that we needed to know how valuable our demand forecasting model was.

The economist in me has nothing to compare it though so I had originally no answer for him.

Abruptly my boss’s boss left the company, and my boss told me the project was no longer a priority.

However, I knew this was easily the toughest problem to solve at work.

These systems have the largest impact on our company as they touch every product.

Knowing more about them, perhaps even optimizing them, would be the most value I could ever create for the company.

It seemed to me that it would certainly make my colleagues forget about my psychosis.

It could help me forget about it too.

So I worked on it in my spare time.

I began planning the overt take over to “audit and optimize”.

My plan was in hindsight, my best ever.

First, I was going to create something to compare the models to, like another model,

I would then create a frame work for analyzing the model.

Then cross train everyone in the org, to answer my boss’s boss’s vague question as to “how was out valuable demand forecasting model?”.

And while the team was now fully cross trained on how to dig into the model’s output, and read the results in comparison to a simple model, I would eventually be able to slip in a more valuable model.

An overt take over, in plain sight of the whole company.

My first couple half effort attempts gave me a small glimmer of hope that one day I might be able to crack the code and build something far more valuable.

Solving this would surely prove to myself something and so I dove into it full force, nights, then all nighters, then weekends.

Like given the extra hours I work in comparison to my colleagues, eventually, at some point perhaps years from now, I would create something vastly better then the model they’re using.

Like given the eventual fact I was going to create something more valuable it would guarantee my promotion, a pay raise.

Something I began to need more and more, as the price of food rising during covid is causing me to go broke, actually too, I was losing money each month.

What happened next was comical, at least for a data scientist.

My first real attempt to create a model for comparison was dramatically outperforming the original model.

Really?! We pay $10M annually for this trash?

Weighted Mean Absolute Percentage Error and Bias and RMSE are used for gauging accuracy of demand forecasting models.

These metrics can be broken down by the cross sections in our data like time, or physical locations, or types of product.

So I would jumped into tableau, which is a data investigation and dashboarding tool, and I would drag and drop dimensions like product department, and country, and plot them out in a trend line chart over time to see the accuracy of our models in comparison to each other.

I was auditing and investigating where the accuracy was coming from.

In 9 of 10 cross sections my comparison model was beating the original model.

Hmmmmm, so what you’re telling me is, the number one thing our company relies on was just surpassed by a couple all nighters?

Was my work genius or was what we were relying on a pile of crap?

Fast forward a couple weeks of explaining to business partners what this means.

A senior director of demand planning forecasted this would be a $100-150 million dollar opportunity.

According to his math, the better forecast accuracy ensure that the product would more likely be at the right place, at the right time, and help minimize the $500 million the company lost due to stock outs.

I believe the number, but I have to clarify it was calc’d by someone else, not me, which is even more validating.

The buzz was a blast. I felt on top again, not satisfied by the validation, although it seemed as if that was originally my goal, but once it happened I quickly realized, nope that wasnt it.

However, I was definitely heading in the right direction.

Around this time, my boss got a new boss.

The new boss began outsourcing.

He then began letting go of the two consultants I was partnering with on other projects.

He offered me a team of data scientists, data engineers, and ml engineers to backfill.

Quite possibly the worst decision ever.

It wasnt that they were from another country, and spoke broken english, those parts I dont mind at all.

In fact I genuinely appreciate the chance to meet people from other cultures and perspectives.

Because most of them are not as broken in the same woke ways as what I am seeing here in the USA, not yet at least.

Most of the consultants I work with are from over seas anyways.

Talent can come from any location globally, and that becoming more and more so the case with online learning.

The real problem was that this particular firm was chosen because of their low $ per hour workforce.

Real talent can demand a higher wage.

Therefore outsourcing, more and more so means lower quality.

Ironic that the same region our clothes were being made in are now were our code is being written from.

I had access to the vendor data so I did look that up and its facts.

Instead of two consultants, the new boss’s boss argued, I could have twenty.

However, it didnt take long to realize eighteen of the twenty were not ready for the task at hand.

In fact, they were causing chaos.

For example, to scale what I had built, we needed to integrate the forecast into the downstream systems.

And my boss’s boss’s new charter was for me to articulate that in jira tickets, and I would come back the next day to review what was built over night.

Except it wasnt like that at all.

It was more like, I would spec something out in a ticket, I would articulate it in the finest of detail, it would take me all day, then come back the next day, to nothing done, and in our morning stand up meeting, the new developers would in very broken english explain why they couldnt do what I asked because I didnt clearly articulate in detail, and so instead they added a comment to the ticket, set up a meeting for one week from now to discuss, in the mean time they listed the ticket status as “blocked”, and instead they are working of the list of priorities set in a meeting from the past.

This pattern, and similar patterns, was becoming more common.

I must adamantly condemn it.

So much so it needs a term, and therefore it is now referred to as “Technical Filibustering”.

And the definition is as such, “When an employee in the engineering sectors uses any tactic, such as asking clarifying questions or adding unnecessary detail to conversations or changing status of tickets, to prolong the completion of their assigned work so they may be able to lighten their work load to balance other personal priorities.”

Because it was just that.

When I looked these individuals up on LinkedIn, none of them listed the consulting agengy we hired as their place of employment.

As I befriended some of them I came to learn they were making one twentieth my wage.

When I pressed my new boss’s boss, his reply was that they he trusts their integrity, after all his brother in law is on the board.

My conclusion, he was a rat.

Worse then moles which spy, but rats which eat the scraps and carry disease.

Like my boss clearly picked his brother’s company to get kick backs.

Like the quality of work no longer mattered.

Instead it was just his kick back play.

Whilst the individuals in the tech sweat shops were literately working on the side of ongoing traffic.

Like during online meetings you could hear the train louder then the person talking.

In that moment I demanded a promotion or I am exiting.

I gave one year’s notice, lol, to attempt to be honorable, patiently waiting for my 10% raise.

To which he said yes.

But after one year he didnt give me a raise.

So, after one year, I left.

A fresh start at a new org was great.

I took with me though many new perspectives:

The first, was that I expected to see the same BS, but this time I was not going to let it get to me. Mainly because I have a family to feed.

The second, was that I wasnt going to let it get to me because I was instead going to work for the Lord. I was absolutely sick of going all out in hopes my boss would reward me. Simply to be let down.

Upon my initial couple weeks at the new gig, I also had a couple other realizations.

This new company was way behind the adoption curve compared to my prior company.

They were like reading a playbook from wokism and were just a couple years behind the curve in comparison to where I just left.

I had many company wide DEI related meetings get pushed to my calendar on week one.

Also, they were behind the times from a tech perspective.

For example, they were more descriptive using SAS and on prem, instead of being predictive using Python in the cloud.

It was my job to advance them, but, and another realization, because they were a bank, they would take twice as long as the pace of what I was used to.

Not to mention the realization that I didnt take with me all the prior burdens of old projects I keep at the last job.

So I had more pay, less responsibility, more time, and was well aware of my next two years worth of work.

I was very, very well positioned.

Within two months time I was so far ahead I didnt know what to do with myself.

The thought of this scenario reminded me of pre covid, when I worked to far ahead and lost sight of my persective.

When I lost my mind due to many things like bordum.

I needed a new job asap.

This one was too slow and too boring.

I applied and found another.

Better pay, better brand, better role.

Considering the current job was a contract I dare not turn in my two weeks notice for fear of being fired on the spot.

I was still paycheck to paycheck thanks to Bidenomics I was $30K in credit card debt and health care bills.

So that wasnt an option.

I decided to work them in tandem, I would turn my two weeks in while on boarding at the new company.

After all I could use the extra pay check.

And the HR meetings for Job 2 during onboarding could be done while multitasking tickets from Job 1.

The first week was scary!

The second week was exhausting!

My mind was melted, not from complexity of anything, but from both context switching and dealing with all new thoughts and new people.

Like so many IM apps, so many emails, so many log ins, MFA each time.

After the second week, I was still waiting on my IT team to grant me access to certain systems, so my manager mentioned I dont have any real deliverables just yet.

The realization hit. They too are suffering from the Tech Filibuster.

If I could do this for 2 weeks, then I just might be able to handle this for 3 months.

And if I can do it for 3 months, then I can do it for a year.

If I can handle a year, then I can handle it for as long as I want.

And considering the cash, considering my new charter, to work for the Lord, not for bosses, I was going to devise a plan to do it well.

To work over employed (https://overemployed.com/) with honor.

Here are the variety of factors and my perspectives that cause me to jump to these conclusions:

1. I had been due a promotion, but due a variety of factors, including smoking weed at work, I didnt get it

2. I was used to though working well above my pay grade

3. The new jobs were slower then what I considered a normal pace, what I need to not go stir crazy

4. Each “level” of promotion is about a doubling of responsibilities, but only a 10% increase

5. Therefore, why not take a demotion, and get the work load done in half the time

6. The second half of my day could be spent doing something more valuable, like workin another job and doubling my pay

7. Considering the huge tech filibuster occurring right now, the opportunity to do so prime

8. Since my colleages were admitting to working 2 hours a day, if I worked 6 at both companies I’d still be 3x as valuable

9. Given the need for my type of role, might not even have to take the demotion

10. The impact I could have given my past experience would make me invaluable

11. Given I would do whatever it took to work honorably to the Lord, what boss wouldnt be happy with that output?

Exhibit A https://techinmotion.com/blog/2017/03/13/what-your-tech-experience-says-about-how-much-you-earn

Because of these factors I dove in full force.

Before I divulge the details, I can hear the talking heads.

And when I mention my endeavors to close confidants, most agree with my reasoning.

But some, the ones which dont rely on hustle to make it, the talking heads, the Little Fingers, have a counter argument centered around ethics.

I cant relate to their POV, because I didnt talk my way through this, instead I did work to get me through it.

And my recognition is recorded and a proper paper trail of success has been noted.

I say this not to boast in my own doing, but to boast in the liberty which comes from working for the Lord and that freedom which produces high quality output and sucess.

When doing your best unto Him, there are no critics worth two cents.

Paper trail:

1. Promoted from contractor to full time resource at both Job 1 & Job 2,

2. Recognized as the top 1% of employees at Job 1, and made it through seven rounds of layoff as Job 2

3. Was called an “anomaly” at Job 1, and a “unicorn” at Job 2 during my first annual reviews, ironically held on the same day lol

4. Created a tremendous amount of inovation for Job 1 and Job 2 which cant be rendered here but are visible in the companies’ documentation, code repository and cloud portals. Like there are code commits with my name on them. And in the code I:

5. Orchestrated models & recommendation engines which generated $25M & $4M in incremental revenue at Job 1 & Job 2

6. Two years later I am still a full time employee at both, and going stronger then ever, actually super excited about both jobs and feel like I am really contributing a lot.

So here is how I did it:

1. The rules outlined at https://overemployed.com/10-commandments-of-oe/ should be first and foremost

2. HUSTLE past the 9-5 and get +28 extra work hours a week

   1. Wake up early and clock in at 7 (+2 hours daily, +10 hours weekly)

   2. Work through lunch (+1 hour daily, +5 hours weekly)

   3. Stay in the seat until the todo list is done (average of +1 hour daily, +5 hours weekly)

   4. On the occasion, especially during the first year, pull an all nighter (once a week, +8 hours weekly)

3. Start for an org as a contractor

   1. Considering the no strings attached relationship, I didnt need to feel guilty if I didnt meet the expectation and was fireable

   2. Considering the no strings attached relationship, I could quit if it wasnt working for me

   3. Assuming I do a good job and get hired on full time, this great validation of my output surpassing any potential critic’s point about ethics of working multiple jobs

4. Invest in tech:

   1. One huge monitor

   2. Two switchers, one for the keyboard, another for the huge monitor acting as a second montior for all computers

   3. Audio mixer, for when the rare occassion occurs that you have to be on two meetings at once, then you can hear both at once

   4. Mouse jigglers so that your status is always active and you can see the IM pings right a way without the computer locking out and respond ASAP

   5. High def camera so the people watching really feel like they can connect with you well. And do this genuinely! Because people make or break a job so enjoy them too. And therefore when you are off camera and out of the meeting, the need to connect is lessened.

5. While overemloyed.com states never to mix devices, I found the more comfortable I got, the less I seemed to care if I got caught. Working off one computer is 10000X better! Here is the benefit:

   1. All emails from Job 1 & Job 2 in one microsoft outlook!

   2. Overlapping calendars which are color coded by company!

   3. Chrome browsers for each Job 1 and Job 2!

6. After one proves himself, eventually the opportunity to pick and chose projects becomes easier. Recall how I bounced back from nothing to something: “Hey boss, let me take a look and let you know how I can help.” And so one should use this to their advantage and pursue strategically the projects that make one more successful at being over employed. For example:

   1. The project actually has to be valuable for the business! NO FILIBUSTERING!

   2. The project has to deal with code, so 1) you can scale your efforts and 2) eventually become the subject matter expert on the topic and “own” its migration or bug fixes or integrations, all of which are easy labor thats less taxing on the mind

   3. You must first work only on the 20% of projects that equally 80% of your success at work. Eventually your boss is gonna say something like, we need volunteers to organize the Christmas party secret santa. And that an absolute waste of your time. Forget about all non essentials, especially HR training. Only after one has done the 20% then they might consider to attempt the next best 10% but usually its not worth it and your boss is very pleased with the value you provide.

The contrasts of Working for the Lord vs The Corporate Man is tremendous.

It cant be overstated how transformative the mindset change is.

For example, I used to say “YES!” to my boss.

Then, because my work was so valuable for my boss, he would say “YES!” to me.

When comparing the two motives in the mindset of those that work for the Lord vs those that work as yes men, comparisons which I plan to eventually write in the next chapter, the more I sought to peruse the next phase of this mindset.

Because of this pursuit, I founded MUDRICK & ASSOCIATES.

More in Chapter 9.

Chapter 9

Mudrick & Associates

contents will be written at a later date

but for now, a short story

The variety of factors, as listed in chapter 8, which when used to my advantage, honestly should be not just exposed, which I will in time with the full writing of chapter 8, but they should also be combatted.

The combatting of these factors is the subject of my calling from Christ Himself.

Something I am filled with joy to discuss.

Its also now of new research:

https://scholarship.richmond.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1492&context=jolt

At one point I heard, I dont remember how, but that in my medical chart which was passed from doctor to doctor, was a flag listing me as a drug seeker.

If true, this would be as to why they were complacent.

If thats not evidence alone that data is damning when inaccurate or inaccurately utilized then I dont know what else is.

This topic, and my new my “data science as fiduciaries” business model is where I am going.

My approach will continue to evolve as it does when following the calling.

For now, I see it like this:

business model

Phase 1: Complimentary Audit

• Conduct a comprehensive audit to identify data science opportunities.

• Develop technical documentation detailing existing capabilities and provide ML/AI explainability through real-time dashboards.

• Employ a solution-oriented approach to uncover significant ML/AI opportunities.

• Duration: 1 to 3 months
  

Phase 2: Champion vs. Challenger

• Explore the potential for extending engagement into a revenue-sharing model.

• Mudrick & Associates will execute A/B testing experiments to enhance your digital systems.

• Our models and their solutions will be evaluated directly against your existing capabilities.

• The parameters of the comparison will be mutually agreed upon and aligned to you strategic objectives.

• Mudrick & Associates will receive 10% of the incremental revenue we generated annually.

WHY?

HOW?

Working for free, we will A/B testing changes to your digital experience, optimizing for your platform to drive incremental sales. Our solutions are transparent and are in yours to own. Together we will scientifically analyze the % lift in sales from your current website to an optimized variant.

Contact

We look forward to your business!