Life Change - Resilience - Hope
Introduction
In late 2017 or early 2018, my former wife, Emily, asked what I thought about moving back to the West Coast. We'd been living near Boston for 11 years, having moved in 2008 for a job and settled down to raise our four beautiful children.
At the time, I had recently taken on a new role with the municipal organization where I'd worked for about three years. But despite our friends and supportive community, we were without family. My family was in Germany, and Emily’s was on the West Coast. We’d been making it work, but the absence of grandparents nearby was beginning to weigh on us.
Emily’s parents had moved to Bend, Oregon, a few years back. We didn’t know much about the town, beyond what we’d seen during a few visits, but we liked what we saw. So, we made our choice—Bend it was. In the fall of 2018, we started planning our cross-country move. After months of prep and far too many yard sales, we set out, retracing the old Oregon Trail.
Life Changes and Such
Excitement about the move faded quickly as old family dynamics resurfaced, impacting our lives more than we’d imagined. Our focus shifted to renovating our home, while underneath, a growing disconnect took hold. Then came the pandemic, hitting everyone hard. While we emerged physically unscathed, the emotional toll was undeniable. Our marriage went from disconnect to silence, and eventually, separation.
Looking back, it feels like we missed the signs. Maybe we were too focused on managing life—raising kids, sending our eldest off to college, dealing with another medical emergency. We didn’t see the growing divide between us until it was too late.
The promise of a fresh start slipped away, and our paths diverged, taking us in separate directions. The pain was real, avoidable even, but somehow, we couldn’t find another way.
Starting Over...Again
Leaving the home I’d built, and the woman and kids I loved, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was stepping into uncertainty—unsure of what came next or how it would all end.
I’m humbled now when I think back to that time and the support I received. My best friend (D.D.) was traveling a lot, and I was able to stay at her house for a while. That gave me time to settle into my new reality without the pressure of figuring out my next move right away. My men’s group also surrounded me with love and care, providing the moral and spiritual support I desperately needed.
Reflecting on those months, it’s clear my friends saved me from a much darker path. They never engaged in negativity or blame. Instead, they helped me take responsibility for my choices and my situation, all while encouraging me to continue loving my family and myself. I’m forever grateful to each of them.
I doubt M, J, and D fully understand the depth of my gratitude, but their unwavering support taught me what resilience truly is. My friendship with D.D. also grew in ways I never expected, teaching me not to give up, to push forward, and to be strong. Most importantly, I learned the value of having friends who hold you accountable for your actions and future. We all need that.
Depression is a B#$%
Unfortunately, not all of us fared so well. While Emily and I were busy rebuilding our lives, we missed how depression quietly crept into our son’s mind.
I know sharing this publicly has its risks, but I’ve learned that certain truths can’t stay hidden. Mental health isn’t something people like to talk about, but it’s crucial that we do.
For our son, it started with a sadness he couldn’t express. We thought we were doing everything right—trying to minimize disruption for our kids. But maybe, in our desire to protect them, we overlooked what they needed most.
Our son’s struggles can be traced back perfectly to our family situation. What started with occasional drug use spiraled into self-harm, culminating in multiple suicide attempts.
Taking down the rope he tried to use was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. No parent should ever have to experience that. But I did.
In that moment, I didn’t fully understand the gravity of it all. But now, I’m thankful for the education I received through organizations like The Connection Codes and BraveCo. Those tools allowed me to process my emotions and be present for my son, my ex-wife, and our daughters during that incredibly difficult time.
Pushing Through Walls
Again, I was reminded of the incredible support system I have. Whether it was late-night calls, walks, or visits, my friends were there in every way imaginable.
On top of that, I was fortunate to work for an employer who genuinely cared about my well-being, and to be part of a professional network that supported me deeply. I am so grateful.
Three months into this new reality, our son has made significant progress. With the help of a great support team, counselors, a move, and new openness, he is finding hope and a positive outlook on life.
Resilience + Hope
According to the Oxford Dictionary, resilience is “the capacity to withstand or recover quickly from difficulties; toughness,” while hope is “an optimistic state of mind that is based on an expectation of positive outcomes with respect to events and circumstances in one's life.”
I’m not a philosopher, but I see resilience and hope as inseparable. People tell me to be resilient, but I’ve learned that true resilience is hard without hope. Thankfully, I’ve always had hope, thanks to my faith. It helps me never lose sight of the better things on the horizon.
If there’s anything I hope to convey in sharing my story, it’s that resilience isn’t just about enduring hardship. For me, true resilience is seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, pushing through, learning, and fighting for what’s important.
Through everything I’ve been through—and thanks to those who stood by me—I’ve rediscovered who I am. I’m becoming a better, more thoughtful, determined, and goal-oriented person than ever before.
Failure is not an option. Our lives are too valuable!