....it was the only way to connect...with myself. My parents drank. My friends were ghosts. The inside of me was as empty and hateful as the words being aimed at me. I was tired of being fat. I was tired of being alone. I was just, tired. The only thing that seemed to fit, was something I could control and hate back. Something cold and exhausting. Like a brilliantly struggled mind in search to conquer the hardest labrynth that could be manifested. Something that challenged the very idea of me. To hunger. To hate. To....feel. It, dared me. There are those of us who have fallen beneath the dirt that once made us great. Who have seen hope vanish like an ash in the wind. Who have felt an unyielding darkness of doubt pour like a siv ny our own hands and sadness. This is where my story begins. A scared, tired, vulnerable boy, who prayed that one day God would let him stand against the hardest day ahead.......and laugh. I am standing....and I am ready to laugh.

It is the most abundantly fulfilling tribute you can honor to yourself. Only through failure do we truly see the greatness of succeeding. Call it what you will, but the challenge to the strength of the body, is the only way the mind, body, and soul can exist in the same person. Love yourself. Challenge yourself. Be yourself.