"Your life is a full-time job. Worry about yourself."
"You don't know what real pain feels like."
"Wear a condom. Don't get her pregnant."
"No matter what you say, no matter what you do, I'll never stop loving you, son."
-My father, nicknamed the Boomerang, because he'd always come back around.
My father became gravely ill these last 2 years. I quit my job, lost 3 more, and finally settled into my career.
I lost my primary residence, couch surfing, and at one point I lived in a leaking shack in a backyard with my father before buying a used, but nice, trailer.
I struggled with money until a 10 year lawsuit was settled. At one point I was mistaken for a homeless man, I was that poor.
I struggled with a vindictive ex that was BPD. She was army and a photoshoot model. HB9, muscles in all the right places. Awesome ass. Worst women I've ever gotten involved with in my entire life. She had become obsessed with me, I had alphawidowed her in the past.
I strangely caught oneitis for a hoodrat who was a HB 6.5. my feelings weren't returned.
I had no friends to speak of. I was a fat, miserable, wretch. I was 60lbs overweight. I was eating garbage, and was a video game addict.
My friend, whom I had alot of common, was struggling with oneitis. He was 26. I had just stumbled upon TRP. I was eager to share the information I was learning.
He died in his sleep, on the job. We were supposed to hang out the day before, but I blew him off because my oneitis wanted to use me as an emotional tampon- I was all too eager to be used.
Shortly after, my father caught a serious illness and was rushed to the hospital.
Everything changed for me that day.
I quit the games. I quit the junk food. I signed myself up for an MMA gym. I got a new job. I got a new place. I got a huge chunk of money. I walked away from my oneitis and never looked back. Keto, fasting, lifting, yoga, MMA, reading, TRP. I was in the best shape of my life.
My struggle had just begun.
My father was released from the hospital with a bacterial infection called C.diff- Diarrhea. My dad also had a constriction of the throat, so he had a tube in his stomach for food. He was like a newborn, he was at 132lb from 225lb just 6 months ago.
I came home to find him laying in a pile of shit that leaked from the sides of the bed. His hands in the air like a cadaver. He cried for help.
I called 911. Tears streaming down my face. I slumped to my knees.
"I can't do this. I'm not strong enough. This is too much. I've reached my limit..."
My dad was taken away by an ambulance. They kept him for a week and sent him back home.
I came home from work to find him on the ground, pants around his ankles, covered in shit, in front of the bathroom. He was shaking and calling for help. He had been laying there for 6 hours. I called 911 again and I held his hand.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry!"
I repeated over and over.
They took him away and sent him back a few weeks later.
My father and I laid down in the bed together. He had a distant look in his eyes.
"I'm too sick, son. There's no coming back from this."
I cried like a bitch. He's never been wrong before.
Something in me broke that day. An understanding. The person I saw in the mirror that day was not the man I had daydreamed of. I had always told myself,
"when the chips are down, you can count on me! I'm a bad ass, if only the world knew! One day, I'll be someone important! Just you wait!"
I got angry. A deep anger that had one message for me-
I stood up straight. I wiped my tears away. I grit my teeth. I clasped my dad's hand. I looked him in the eye. I said-
"After everything you've been through, after how far you've come, this is where you call it quits!?"
"Is this going to be the moment the man I've looked up to my whole life is going give up? Was I wrong about you!?"
"Are you going to be remembered as the weakling that died in this shit town, inside a crappy trailer, with no friends or family surrounding your bedside?"
"This is not who you are.
I haven't given up.
I'll change your diaper everyday, if that's what it takes. We've come too far to give up now."
"If you give up now. All the pain, the anger, the humiliation. It will be for nothing."
"Look at yourself properly at what kind of man you want to be."
I watched his face change. I saw his eyes well up. I felt his hand clench mine. I saw his mouth tighten into a thin line. A look of determination fell across his face.
I saved my dad's life that day.
Before you try and save the world. Before you talk about starting a movement.
Look into the mirror.
Do you see a man worth following?
Worry about yourself before you start worrying about anyone else.
Fix your shit before you start trying to fix anything else.
You're nothing special. You can't even tell your boss no. If you can't even stand up for yourself, how the hell are you supposed stand for anything else?
There comes a time in every man's life where bravado is no longer enough. You've run out of time.
All that's left is for you to take action. Rubber to road. Thought into action. Times up!
Move. Your. Feet!
You're only a ghost in a shell of you let yourself become one. Show everyone that they were wrong about you. Show everyone they counted you out too soon.
If you want to be a legend, you have to do some legendary shit.
Be a warrior, not a soldier.
A soldier dies for another man's cause.
A warrior dies for his own.