This is the most painful story I’ll ever tell.
Since July of 2021, I’ve been suffering. I’ve been bulimic for well over a year. Every meal I’ve eaten has ended up being vomited back up into a toilet bowl.
I threw up in Lansing.
I threw up in Detroit.
I threw up in Chicago.
I threw up in New York.
I threw up in Omaha.
I threw up in Indy.
I threw up in Baton Rouge.
I throw up on Thanksgiving (twice).
I threw up on Christmas.
I could count on my hand the number of days I didn’t purge. Some of the best meals I’ve ever had were vomited back up because I’ve only cared about being thin. I hate feeling ugly, and I have done horrible things to myself to make sure that I maintain a certain weight. My anxiety is so incredibly severe. Every day I have OCD thoughts and compulsions that hit me in the head like a sledgehammer. I constantly fear that I will say or tweet something awful, ruin everything, and get canceled. My life is just one giant cycle of shame and guilt. To fight that anxiety, I drink in severe excess daily. I AM AN ALCOHOLIC. It’s the only way to fight the demons. I don’t believe anyone will love me if I don’t drink. I can never be relaxed. I can never settle down. I need more help.
Here’s the truth, I hate myself. I hate every single thing about myself. I hate my voice. I hate my stupid face. I hate my body. I hate having autism. I hate the fact that I have zero confidence around women. I think I suck at my job. Michigan football has had the year of a lifetime, and I haven’t done shit with it. I worry that I won’t have a job after this because I haven’t done enough to maintain one. I feel unworthy to be treated so kindly by such talented and nice people. I was a burnout who got so lucky that Spencer Turnbull threw a no-hitter, and Dave Portnoy was kind enough to hire me out of a gas station. I don’t believe I’m untalented. I just think I’m not good right now, and I hate it.
Working at Barstool is the single greatest joy of my life. But I don’t want just to work here. I want to be one of the best that’s ever done it. And I am failing. I know I do this “O shucks, that’s just who I am” routine, but this shit isn’t fun. I’d trade away every piece of sports or pop culture info I know if I could just feel normal for one day. I’m 27 years old, and I still feel like a child. I’ve never lived on my own. I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve never had sex. I don’t know what it feels like to look into the eyes of someone I love and know they feel the same way about me. My heart is broken every day, and I need to change that. I need to learn how to like myself. I love Michigan sports teams, but I don’t like living here. I want to move. Daily, I’m triggered by the trauma that I’ve gone through. I drive by the restaurant where I got my heart broken, and I sit in the same basement where I was catfished at the age of 16 and my innocence was taken from me. I wish I could erase the horrible things I’ve seen on the internet. I’ve been in therapy since first grade, but even that can only do so much. When you’re taking 20 shots of Captain Morgan in a day, it negates the effects of therapy.
I want to make something abundantly clear. The only reason that my heart still beats is because of this company. People like to take their shots, but I want the entire world to know that I have never been around a kinder, more brilliant group of people. Everyone says that I over-exaggerate, but it’s not an over-exaggeration. I love you. I’ve had best friends who no longer talk to me because I’m exhausting, and then there’s Mintzy, Megan, Jeff, Kirk, Clem, KFC, and many more. Your kindness has saved my life. Don’t forget that. Anyone who thinks this isn’t a great workplace can go fuck themselves. I never want to work anywhere else.
“I shouldn’t be alive unless it was for a reason. I’m not crazy…I just finally know what I have to do. And I know in my heart that it’s right.”
I feel so ashamed. I feel like I’ve lied to my friends and my family. I’ve hid things from them, and I’m so sorry for that. I work for a company that I love more than anything. I still view myself as a failure, but my best days have come since I started working here. I don’t deserve your love, yet you have all been there for me, and I’m so sorry if that is an inconvenience on any of you. I love you all so much. I wish I could see you every day.
I feel so sick, but I need to get right. I’m 27 years old, and at the rate I’m going, I won’t make it to 30. This is not how my journey will end. And I am so sorry for what I’m putting my friends and family through. I hate being “that guy.” I hate being the one mentally ill friend that everyone has. I hate being the guy with all the afflictions. I’d give anything to be normal. I will be someday.
I’m sorry to my coworkers. I’m sorry to my parents. I’m sorry to my friends. You have to acknowledge the truth at a point in your life. Sometimes, you need to take a moment for yourself. I am here for a reason. My journey has never been an easy one. It never will be. But there will always be beauty in the struggle, no matter how painful that struggle may be. I don’t know what my content will look like in the near future. I’ve never been to rehab before. I don’t plan on ever going again. I will do everything in my power to ensure I can do my job even when I’m struggling. This company deserves that. The Stoolies deserve that.
“Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.”
I will rise from this. I will be better from this. When my story is written, it will not be one of tragedy. It will be one of triumph. I just need time. I need to get right, and I know that I will. This is not the end. It’s a new beginning.
“When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”
See ya soon