I needed control over my own life, and at the time, all I wanted to do was run and hide.  I looked in the mirror and said "Who TF is this weak f**k looking at me?" and I hated myself.  The problem was, I was waiting for someone to come save me from sh*t that only I could save myself from.  I hobbled around the hospital room and started asking myself 'Why?'

Why did I want to hide?

Why did I want to get angry?

Why was I afraid of anything?

I had to control my beliefs instead of trying to control what other people thought about me, or anything else, I needed to control the voice in my head, and this is what I did.

Never Miss

Spartan

Trevor Bachmeyer