From a Lost Foundation to Rebuilding

It’s a brand new day. August is upon us. Today is the fourth, and it’s 2026. The year is going by fast.

Honestly, I have nothing to write about. But that’s the journey of writing. Take my hand and let’s walk together.

The last few weeks, I’ve shifted or even crystallized the position of my faith. I declared to the world that I no longer believe Jesus is God.

I even said I don’t believe in the New Testament, and I no longer will be going to church.

How are you feeling? Do you think I’m lost? Will you continue to walk with me?

We are all on a journey. The most important thing in my life was the walk I had with God in my teens.

I loved church, I loved meeting new people, I loved being radically honest with others.

The weight of my life against another's soul. The fact that I had an impact on someone’s life, either to give them life or to give them to death.

I felt responsible for everyone I met. To be the best friend, the best stranger, to be the best leader, and to radically love those who are wandering.

But here’s the thing. I am wandering. That radical love I had for others is far less towards me.

I feel ashamed; I live broken with Schizoaffective disorder; I’m in between jobs right now; I feel like a failure.

I don't know what I'm living toward anymore.

The very person whom I made my life mission to reach out to is the very person I’ve become.

What do we do? Will you continue to walk with me?

It’s amazing because if you read my book, you’d realize I’ve lived many lives and been through incredibly hard things for a person who’s only 35 years old.

To think all of the twists and turns led me here, sitting in a room in West Haven under the grace of living with my family, having no income and looking for a job, and writing now is the most amazing thing I’m thinking about today.

I’ve traveled to Japan, Mexico, and Haiti. I’ve been to Puerto Rico. I’ve been hospitalized 18 times, attended a Christian University only to be kicked out and banned at 20.

I worked and excelled in sales, earning $20,000 in 2016.

I lost a hundred pounds and ran a half marathon.

I lived with bipolar disorder and now schizoaffective disorder.

A friend gave me $9,000 to pay down my student loan debt. Another gave me $3,000 to help me get back on my feet after a traumatic episode in a mental hospital in 2019, where I was assaulted a few times and lost a front tooth.

I worked in health care, giving medications to my clients, making sure they took them every night.

All the while managing my own med compliance, treating schizoaffective disorder.

I lived in a home where rent was $275 a month, and my landlord gave me a free ’96 Odyssey to help me drive to work.

I’ve lived an amazing life with countless individuals who walked alongside me just like you are doing today.

Now, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. You don’t know what keeps me up at night and the fears I live with from the trauma of these disorders.

The constant striving of the wind trying to capture this invisible force.

Maybe this isn't the first time I've had to rebuild. It's just the first time I've had to rebuild without the identity I trusted most.

Now, I am stripped away of my identity and rebuilding again.