Life after door kicking.

Category: MH

  • From Duty to Dad: Navigating Fatherhood After War

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    I never really knew my dad.If you added up all the time I spent with him, it wouldn’t make six months. The first time I saw him, I was around eight, and I don’t remember doing much with him. The next time was as a preteen, and that round didn’t do me any favors —…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • A Different Assignment – A Different Fate

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    Today marks a day I can never forget. Twenty three years ago, the squad I was in before we deployed, hit an AT mine. I was moved to weapons squad as soon as I got in country. I’ve carried the weight of that randomness, the loss of my team, and the disillusionment that followed. I…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • Weighted Sunrise

    Do you need a break? From what? I could use a break from pain that doesn’t risk addiction. It would be nice to wake up and not feel my back. Not feel my nerve-damaged leg. Not feel the grinding of joints that have run out of cartilage. Not feel the scrape of bone on bone.But…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • No, You Don’t Have to Force December

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    I get the desire for cheer in December. I really do. The winter solstice gives us the shortest day of the year. The world tilts and shrinks the light. Things go gray. Cold sets in. It’s only natural we’d want to fight that back—with lights, with laughter, with plans, with cheer.We’re not wrong to want…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • The Cost of Isolation: Six Lives That Prove We’re Meant to Be With People

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    And Why I Still Fight the Urge to Pull Away Isolation is tempting. Quiet. Predictable. Controlled. I battle with the urge to isolate. There are days when even stepping into a party, a store, or a casual conversation feels draining, like the world is tapping a vein and taking what I’ve got left. Sometimes it’s…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • Why I write

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    I was never the type who loved writing in school. Essays felt stiff. Book reports were a chore. But even back then, I was writing—just not the kind they asked for. I wrote lyrics. Rhymes scribbled in spiral notebooks, verses built in my head while walking alone, staring at ceilings, or laying in the dark.…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • Fighting for Routine: Discipline in the Middle of Recovery

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    Recovery Doesn’t Come With a Roadmap Recovery doesn’t come with a roadmap—especially when the body you’re trying to reclaim doesn’t move the same way it used to. After my spinal fusion, I wanted nothing more than to get back to rolling, lifting, and running—back to what once made me feel strong. But I knew I…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • Burned out not broken.

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    It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything here.The truth is, I’ve been in the middle of rebuilding—not just my body, but my routines, my mindset, and my connection to the people who matter most to me. After my accident, recovery took priority. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too. I had to figure…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • That day…

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    That day was fucked.I’m not even sure who I’m supposed to be mad at anymore — some pissed-off local, the Taliban, or maybe the Russians who might’ve dumped it all 20 years before. At this point, who knows? And honestly, it probably doesn’t matter. We just left the country again, barely any better off than…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking

  • Poem in the am

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    If I died today who would mourn If I side hopped would it storm If my heart stopped peace be born Though at first it may look like pain After the worst you will see gain Know our course would see us change Loves a sport but we’re in flames When the resort is to…

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    lifeafterdoorkicking