Sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, I took the final exam for OSHA 10. Twenty questions stood between me and my next steps in the M.A.T.C.H program. One by one, I clicked through the answers and hit submit.
100%. A perfect score, and an immediate weight off my shoulders.
Completing my first week in manufacturing gave me something I hadn’t felt in a long time: direction. There is a deep, grounding joy in learning to build with your hands, in bringing something tangible into existence. Over the next four weeks, I’ll be diving into welding, laser cutting, soldering, and driving a forklift. With help from Eric, the COO of M.A.T.C.H, my resume now reflects this new path. But what struck me most was that Eric didn’t just look at trade skills; he highlighted my writing and my publication.
I rebranded my LinkedIn to reflect both sides of who I am, stepping fully into the title of Editor-in-Chief for The Barnaby Times. I used to brush the title off with a joke, worried it sounded overly ambitious for a publication with a modest audience. But every platform starts small, and I am choosing to claim the work I am building.
Lately, I’ve also been sharing daily updates on my weight loss journey. The scale held steady at 314 pounds this week after a few heavy dinners offset a small drop. It can be frustrating, especially knowing my heaviest was 322 pounds and grappling with how medications like Invega impact my body. But I am learning to replace self-blame with perspective.
Five years ago, I weighed less, but I was infinitely more miserable.
I remember lying there after ingesting a bottle of Lithium and Seroquel following a hospital stay for a psychotic break. Broke and alone, I believed I was taking my final breaths, waiting for my consciousness to dissolve back into the universe. It was surreal; I had lived with dark thoughts for years, but never believed I would act on them. Yet when I unexpectedly woke up, a spark of survival kicked in. I told my roommate what I had done, and a high-speed trip to the hospital pulled me back from a fatal overdose.
Today, I carry more weight on my frame, but infinitely less weight on my soul. I survived that night, and five years later, I am clear-headed, purpose-driven, and ready to shape my own future.
Till next time,
Barnaby