Strong? No. Doing My Best? Yes.

Sometimes being human hurts.

People often say things to me like:

• “You quit drinking? I wish I had the strength to do that.”

• “You lost your wife to suicide? You must be so strong to get through that.”

• “You lost your daughter too? Look at all the writing and videos you’re putting out there! I could never find the strength you must have.”

Where do I even start?

If it weren’t for my wife, I’d probably still be drinking myself numb and drowning the pain I didn’t even know I was in. Or I might be dead. And for reasons I still don’t fully understand, once I quit, I’ve never had the urge to go back. I’ve never needed strength to remain free from alcohol.

I spent almost five years denying I needed to grieve my first wife Cindy's death. A few weeks ago, I started bawling because I realized I have unresolved guilt over my daughter’s death and I just couldn’t bear the idea of facing it.

Half the time, I’m not even sure the writing I do here isn’t just another way to avoid what I’m not ready to face. Right now, I shut down anytime my wife tries to talk about the future. Because navigating the present is taking almost everything I’ve got.

I wage an internal battle before most therapy sessions because the urge to cancel is so damn strong. And the voice in my head telling me I’m weak? It can be louder and more convincing than I’d like to admit.

I worry that I’m letting down my business partners and that everything we’ve built will come crashing down. I’ve suffered two devastating losses already. Why wouldn’t it happen again?

And if it does, will I even have the capacity to do anything about any of it? Or will I just sit there helpless and unable to act while Rome burns around me?

There are days I feel on top of the world and days where the pain feels almost intolerable. And grief makes it impossible to know which version tomorrow might bring. The uncertainty only deepens my exhaustion.

I’m not telling you this so you throw me a pity party. I don’t need one because I’m not stuck. I’m moving forward. I’m not hopeless. I’m optimistic. And I’m not giving up. Because rebuilding a meaningful life is too important to me.

My point?

I’m not strong. I’m human. Just like you.

And maybe that’s all any of us needs to be.

That’s why I write about grief for men, and the people who l love them. ♥️