MY STORY
1 | WHERE IT ALL BEGAN
My name is James Wardlaw and I was born and raised in Scotland. At the age of 5 my father abandoned us, my mother worked two jobs to keep us fed. As a working mother we couldn’t get a council house as they believed there were more deserving families. With nowhere to live, we spent the week and days living with my aunt so we could go to school, and the weekends with my grandmother. Constantly packing and unpacking suitcases. We did this for 6 years.
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One day we get a message we had just be given a council house. This was a very emotional time for all of us. We now had a home. No need to pack and unpack cases. I lived in a very small town and it wasn’t the best area. You constantly had to try and make a name for yourself to stay alive. I was a very troubled kid and made a lot of mistakes. I think I put my mother through hell. Due to the stress of two jobs and trying to support a family my mother suffered a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized for a month. My sister was 13 at the time and I was 12. we had to support ourselves, get to school, clean, wash and iron our cloths. And every night we would take the bus to visit her. It was tough times and a very hard lesson in live.
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At the age of 13, whilst on a school camp, during the first night, as a bet I drank a liter bottle of whiskey in 3 mins. As you can imagine that didn’t turn out too well... Rushed to hospital with alcohol poisoning. The police were outside the hospital door to arrest me for underage drinking, it really wasn’t looking good. My mother Hadn’t driven a car in 7 years and she had to borrow one to drive the 6 hours to come and fetch me. When the policemen saw how angry my mother was, they dropped all charges as they felt I would get what was coming to me.
With no father, my mother’s 5 brothers stepped in and I got a hiding from each of them. I was suspended from school and my future wasn’t looking good. Even when I was allowed to go back to school, I would very rarely go, I spent most of my time running around the streets and making a nonsense of myself.
We grew up in a house where emotion was rarely shown, I think in the 16 years I was at home my mother told me she loved me 5 times. There was no hugging and I honestly felt alone, I felt abandoned. I was a troubled boy but found solitude in gymnastics and trained 4 times a week. By the age of 12 I was competing at the top level.
My mother could never take me as we didn’t have a car and she worked most of the time, so she never saw me compete, not once. The feeling of looking into the crowd and see no one there to support you. When people ask me what football team I support, my answer shocks most (coming from the UK who doesn’t like football). The thing was... every single Saturday, my friends would go to football matches with their dads... and I was left alone. People didn’t have the money to buy an extra ticket, so Football represents the cold reminder that I grew up without a father.
My mother remarried when I was 15, the man and I could not stand each other but I wanted my mother to be happy... so I had to leave. There was no space in the house for both my stepfather and me. I had nowhere to go and the only option was to join the British Army. At least I would have a bed and be fed. Well so I thought.
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2 | HELLO ARMY
I applied to join the army at 15, I got myself to all the interviews and did all the test without my mothers knowledge. I absolutely hated school, during my final exams, (O levels in the UK) I only pitched up for two of them. I did do well in Math's as I had a school boy crush on the teacher and I liked to listen to her. I hated the English Teacher, that man humiliated me many times in front of everyone. I was a waste of space and would make nothing of my life. I sat in that English exam, wrote my name on the top of the page, making sure that I spelt it wrong, got up and left a few minutes later. I passed the math's and failed everything else.
On the 14 November, about a month before my 16th birthday, I got the letter that I was accepted to Royal Artillery Junior Leaders’ Regiment in Nuneaton. I was leaving on the 15th of January the next year. 18 days after my 16th birthday... Thing is... I had to have the papers signed by my mother as I was under 18. She didn’t want to sign them and for the first time I think I saw her show emotion, but my step father step father barged in and said "just sign them and let him go".
Junior Leaders was 12 months of Basic Training, as the name says it was a Regiment that focused on future leaders. It was extremely tough and very few made it through the 12 months. I had to. I had no where to go back to.
Near the end of our training, we where sent to mount Snowden in Wales. One of the highest mountains in the UK. The British Army, as good as it was... was brutal. Our boots where made of compressed carboard and due to the constant polishing, we eradicated all the water proofing. In 1 meter of snow, freezing conditions, and a complete white out. Six 16-year-old boys were left on their own to survive.
'The rat packs' as we called them, these were the backpacks we had with food that we carried with us. Due to the cold conditions, we were giving the artic packs. Much better as they were lighter to carry as most were powdered meals. All you had to do was melt snow and add it to the powder. However, the gas canisters we were given to cook with freezes at -7 degrees and we were in temperatures of -8 and We could barley see 1 meter in front of us. The brutal circumstances t was taking its toll, we had to stop every meter, this continued for endless hours.
At one stage we sat down and reflected on what we were achieving? Hungry, thirsty, frozen feet. The six of us grew close in those moments as we were stared death in the face together. We motivated each other to carry on and we did. We got ourselves down through the storm, through the white out. We made it down.
I was posted to my Regiment in Dortmund, Germany at 17, and sent to the Falkland’s at 18. I had my First active service at the age of 18. I was handed a gun and told to kill.
At 19 I was the army light Middle Weight Boxing Champion, a title I held for the three years I competed. At 21 I was sent to Northern Island, receiving my second Medal of Honor at 21. However, I was still a troubled boy from a bad area with feelings of abandonment, not feeling worthy, asking myself, why my father left and what I had done wrong.
Even with the accomplishments I had at this point in my life, I never felt good enough and nothing I did ever seemed to fill the void.
I had accomplished so much and was only 22. But I was empty inside, something was missing. I decided to leave the army after giving them 6
years of my life.
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3 | NEVER QUIT
After the Army, I headed to South Africa. I understood I had no education or experience and realized that would have to change if I wanted to progress. I took the first job I could find and studied as often as I possibly could. It was hard work. An enormous amount of hard work. But today I have my MBA Business Management, MBA Human Resources, LLB, as well as 21 Diplomas in all aspects of business with 19 Higher Distinctions. I wasn’t trying to prove a point to anyone, or to brag. I was trying to prove to myself that I was not a failure, that I could achieve whatever I set my mind to.
Over the years I have successfully completed 9 IronMan, 9 Two Ocean's, 4 Comrades, over 100 Marathons and Ultra-Marathons, completed 3 Robben Island Events (7.5klms swim in 9 - 13 degree water) and climbed 5 of the Highest Mountains in the world, numerous times, (My goal is to successfully achieve the 7 summits, (The Highest Mountain in each continent.) I further started my own company at 27 and successfully ran it for 28 years.
Out of all my adventures I have to say the 7.5klms swim in the shark invested Atlantic Ocean with waters at 11 degrees and in the middle getting as low as 9 degrees. Rated as one of the toughest swims in the world, a true test of endurance and the ultimate test on your mental strength. It plays havoc on the mind, creating fear, when you consider the "what if''s" and many threats you could face.
When you are in the mountains you can always put more clothes on when you get cold, when cycling or running you can stop, sit down and rest. But when you are in the Atlantic Ocean with nothing but sea around you, you only have one option and that is to keep swimming. In that temperature your body can become hypothermic very quickly causing the muscles to freeze up, the heart pumps excessively fast trying to keep the body warm and the cold causes you to lose your mental clarity very quickly. You don’t have the ability to add layers to get warm or stop and take a rest. It is very difficult to rehydrate, your exhausted muscles are overtime trying to keep your body warm and keep you going. You're constantly asking yourself if you have what it takes to finish. It's funny when you are surrounded by water but you can’t drink it. The minute you enter the water on Robben Island, you are committing to get to the end. The Atlantic Ocean is a completely different animal. An animal that is vast, empty and is very unforgiving. You are like an ant on a rugby field. You quickly begin to appreciate not just the beauty but the loneliness and power of the ocean.
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My first Robben island swim was delayed by two hours due to bad weather. Sitting there contemplating the task at hand. 'Can I do this, what if I get cramp'. My head was spinning. Between about 100 swimmers, you could hear a pin drop. Everyone was in their own heads. The news arrives 'we are a go' in 20mins. As we all walk to the edge of the water, I can honestly say, I think the guy next to me could hear my heart beating. One lady shout’s, "Hey there's a shark over there!" My goodness you could hear the gasp in unison by the 100 swimmers.
"BANG"... the gun goes off and away we go! On entering that water everything in my mind and body is saying 'what are you doing, get me out of here!'. I couldn't feel my face. My hands where numb and I couldn't get air into my lungs. My body wouldn't move, it seemed like I had lost total control of my arms and legs. I thought I was going to drown right there and then and I hadn’t even swam 30 meters. I started to move to get my body going. Thinking that I would heat myself up if I just kept swimming. After swimming for about 30mins I asked him where everyone was. He points to the right and says "they went that way, but we are going straight as it is shorter". As I carry on a whale of some type breached about 20 meters in front of me. Extraordinary and beautiful! I couldn’t move for a minute and took in the experience. I cannot say in words how that felt. But what it did do was remind me of what else was in the sea. Half way through I was visually aiming for the only building I could see to keep me on track to the finish line. But the current kept pushing me to the left away from the finish point. I turn into the current and swam as hard as I could for 10mins, I hadn't moved 10 meters.
The guy in the boat shouts "Its best to get out as you will never make it!" The guy who was swimming with me got out. I thought Hell No! What will my son think of me if I just give up at the first obstacle? Time for plan B. I turned with the current and continued to swim. My body temperature dangerously near hypothermia, I couldn’t feel my toes and my hands, I thought my nose had fallen off and my lips where in pain. I pushed and pushed, I fought cramps, a barrage of negative feedback from the guys who kept complaining about how cold they were,,,, I thought, 'you think your cold? They kept on saying that it was taking too long and I was just wasting my time, I would never finish the race. But I had made the decision that I was going to finish no matter what. Nearly 4 hours in the water I hit the shore. I was about 1km away from the actual finish line. As I got out of the water, I collapsed. My legs wouldn't move. I lay there, elated that I had finished, but wondering if my legs would every move again. The organizer's sent a vehicle to come fetch me and I had to be lifted into the back of the SUV. My body was done. As I lay in the medical tent, the organizer came in and handed me my finishers medal.
One of only 34 finishers that year. And I was dead last. He asked me, "why didn't you just give up and get out? You started off in the wrong direction and the chances of getting to the finish line where ultimately zero as the current was just too strong." I sat and thought about it for a moment, the answer seemed easy.
Reliving the experience and considering what I had just gone through, I realized I had done more than just finish a race. I had learnt so much about myself and what I was capable of. I had pushed myself far beyond my expectations. I removed myself from my comfort zone. Battling exhaustion, the cold and constant negativity from the crew played havoc with my mind. I tapped into something that made it possible for me to do what I did. At times you realize. You can’t go back, the only way through is forward and it seems like an impossible task.
I questioned what it was that kept me going, what gave me the strength to continue when so many were giving up? The guy swimming with me got out and I wondered 'what did he know that I didn’t?' I didn’t just finish a swim in the Atlantic Ocean and come last. I grew within myself as a person and realized that when all odds are against you... There is a way. Find it. Create it. Believe in yourself.​​​​
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4 | THRILL OF THE CLIMB
On my quest for the seven summits, I headed to Russia to take on Mount Elbrus, the highest mountain in Europe. The first few days are spent hiking around the area to get the body moving and acclimated. On the last day of hiking before we were about to leave for the mountain, I made a crucial mistake. I had a new pair of boots. That weren't broken in. During that hike instead of stopping when I felt the rubbing on my heals, I carried on, not worrying about it. Haha but I ended up with GIANT blisters on both heels of my feet, every step I took was... excruciating.
One of the girls in the group was a nurse and kindly treated my poor heels with methylate. Oh, my goodness! I nearly jumped out if my skin when she first applied it! She taped them up and that was that. Day one and every step was excruciating. I tried to keep my feet forward so there would be no rubbing on my heels, sadly it didn't work and constantly walking up hill... it's impossible. Day one done I wasn't sure if I could carry on. That voice in my head was telling me that in a few days I wouldn’t be able to walk, making it impossible to get down. A small issue that had me completely debilitated. I ignored myself and the excuses. Got up and continued to push.. day after day. I refused to quit.
Everyday we put more tape on top of tape to create a thick of a barrier in an attempt to prevent the friction. It didn't work. I got to the last camp, we were leaving for the summit at midnight. The thing about being in a group is you go as slow as the slowest person. It became horribly frustrating as we were constantly stopping as one of the guys in the group was not physically prepared for the climb and was very demotivated.
When you keep stopping, the sweat freezes very quickly and you become extremely cold in minutes. Standing there shaking from the cold you lose the feeling of your toes and fingers. As your nose runs it freezes on your face. Your water bladder freezes so it’s impossible to rehydrate. The cold and the constant stopping was causing the other climbers in the group to rapidly get upset and the tension started to mount. Most started to lose their tempers telling this guy he had to stop stopping.
Eventually the overwhelming decision by the group was that he had to turn back as he was ruining the chances of the rest of us making it to the summit. To be honest thank goodness he turned back. The weather was atrocious making walking very difficult and exhausting. The visibility was very poor, we couldn’t see more than 3 meters in front of us. Elbrus has two peaks as you look at it but the left peak is the higher by only 5 meters, but the route takes you to the right side first. It feels like you are walking away from the summit which can become demoralizing. As you walk you seem to be getting further away rather than closer. Very close to the summit our guide advised that we had to turn back as the weather was just too bad. Only six of the twelve that started where left, whilst we couldn't see the summit, we could feel it, taste it and could see ourselves standing on the top.
The summit was right there, maybe 6 or 700 meters away but it would take 2 to 3 hours to get there. As a group we decided that we wanted to give it a go and convinced the guide to carry on. We successfully got to the summit. Standing on the top we could barely see each other as the visibility was so bad, but elated with our achievement everyone started hugging each other and high fiving. There was a moment of silence, everyone was taking in the beauty and the moment, enjoying the total silence you experience on the summit of a mountain, no traffic or noises from machinery that we have become so immune to, enjoying the moment of total and utter exhilaration of what we had just achieved, THAT MOMENT OF SILENCE WAS UNFORGETTABLE.
On the way down we passed a group of seven climbers and we said "Guys, you need to turn around, you’re too late. The weather was getting worse, and you have missed the window of opportunity." The snow fall was heavy and walking was extremely difficult. The soft snow was sitting and piling up which is a recipe for an avalanche. We again said "Guys turn around!" but they had made their decision, just as we did before summiting.
In a heat wrenching turn of events, there was an avalanche.. all seven climbers died.
We were the last people to talk to them, we were all in shock, devastated and heart broken for their families. We decided to hike out that day, without rest. we wanted to get off of the mountain.
Arriving at the accommodation the alcohol started to flow, vodka, vodka and more vodka. As a non-drinker it wasn’t long before I was spending most of my time with my head in the toilet. I have a very naughty streak so decided to fill the tomato sauce, mustard, salt and pepper containers with vodka. The next morning, everyone crawled to breakfast, we all looked awful, we were green. As breakfast was served most, if not all, apart from me, added salt, pepper, tomato sauce onto their meals. I sat there with a huge grin on my face, holding in my laughter. 5 minutes in, the one girl comments... "Shoo, last night must have been big, all I can taste is vodka." Everyone else piped up, "same here, all I can taste is vodka." I just couldn't contain myself anymore and had to tell them what I had done the night before. I think if they had the energy, they would have strung me up right there.
With the sadness of the day before, and understanding that as climbers that there is always the possibility that you may not come back. But to experience it is incredible. It is life. Something I think we were all battling to come to terms with. Eventually they all found the humor in it and we all had a good laugh.
Sometimes that voice in our heads can give us the wrong information. It can convince us to do things we know are wrong. And in the end, it could be fatal, as we had just experienced. It is imperative that you are in control of that voice, that you are able to filter the information to make the right
decision.
That moment of silence on the top, that realization that I was one step closer to my dream of standing on the highest mountain in each continent is hard to put in words. Whilst the vision was bad and we did not get to experience the amazing views. The inner feeling was overwhelming, it brought tears to my eyes. I could have given up at the first obstacle due to my blisters. Stopped half way as others did as I was in constant pain. That would have been easy. But the experience of standing on the highest point in Europe was worth the suffering the freezing cold, dehydration and
exhaustion.
I realized I could achieve whatever I set my mind to. No matter what was thrown at me, I could overcome it. I had envisioned myself on the top. I had listened to others before leaving for the challenge, who had stood on the top and tried to imagine it. But standing there, on the highest point in Europe, no matter how much I explain to you or show you the pictures there are no words that can explain the feeling. I struggled daily just to walk in excruciating pain, I thought I had frost bite on my fingers and toes I was physically drained and dehydrated, but something in me just kept pushing me and I achieved my dream.
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5 | QUITING DOESN'T ALWAYS MEAN FAILURE
On my second trip to Mount Aconcagua, the highest mountain in South America and the 2 nd Highest of the Seven Summits, it was a training climb as I was planning to leave for Everest the next year. However, this climb was different, From the beginning, I got and was very sick. I was sick before I went, but I had worked so hard to prepare for the trip and refused to quit.. I believed I could do it. On the way up the mountain, I was so ill, I was vomiting blood and my SATS were extremely low. After days on the mountain, I tried to hide the fact that I was vomiting blood and always made an excuse when it was time for our SATS to be tested. On summit night we left at midnight, I was broken. A few hours into the climb My mentor and guide, Sean, could see I was struggling, he said to me I needed to turn back as if I go any further, I won’t make it back. Heartbroken and mentally destroyed I felt like a complete failure. I could not accept it. I could not wrap my brain around giving up and quitting. I had to sit there and watch the group carry on up the mountain while I prepared myself physically and mentally to go down.
My reason for getting to the summit of a mountain is my Son, I find a flat rock, fairly large and I inscribe a message to him on it with my knife. I have climbed 6 mountains over a period of 12 years, we as we were both in different places in our lives, so the message on each is different. I leave it very near the cross and take a photograph of where I have left it so it would be easy to find. I have three lying next to each other on Kilimanjaro which have been left over a period of 10 years. I like to imagine that he decided to climb and came back with those rocks. What an unbelievable and special moment that would be.
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It was a 6-hour hike to get down of the mountain to base camp. I left all my gear as I was not strong enough to carry it and was left only with what I was wearing and one bottle of water. 6 hours in to the journey I wasn't even half way. I was completely broken, both mentally and physically. I was vomiting and had no water left. I got to a point where I gave up. I sat down in the middle of the pass, between the two mountain ranges so I would be found by climbers coming down over the next few days. I became quiet, I made peace with where I was and accepted my fate, my end would be on this mountain.
As I sat there thinking about my life, what I had achieved, the things I still wanted to achieve, the mistakes I had made and what I could have done differently. I was strangely at peace. As cold as it was, I was content. I had no food or water, I was mentally and physically broken, it was just a matter of time. 10 minutes passed and a voice spoke to me and told me to "Get up and carry on." I said "I can't I'm done." But the voice kept telling me to "Get up." Persistent, it just wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. I eventually got up. To this day, I don’t know how I reached base camp 4 hours later. Having no gear, food, water, a sleeping bag and with all the tents occupied by climbers moving up the mountain, I slept in the Mess Tent, huddled in a corner trying to stay warm.
For a long time, I focused on the negative, that I had failed on my dream. That I had failed my Son down as I didn’t get that rock to the summit. I struggled for a long time to overcome it.
When people asked me how my trip up Mount Aconcagua was, I was embarrassed to say I failed. Most would say... What a story and how amazing it
is that your still alive! No one likes to fail, especially me, but somewhere in that failure there had to be a message, a reason. I sat and contemplated what that could be, what was the message I had to learn from the experience. I didn’t get to the top and leave my rock. But I’m still alive and in a position to continue with my dream of achieving all seven summits. I have no doubt if I had carried on and did not quit, I would have died.
What most of us forget is that there are two journeys on a mountain, one up and one down. On the journey up you are full of motivation and desire to reach the top. I am motivated as I personally need to leave that message for my son. But when you get there and the exhilaration passes the realization that you have to get back down is a shock to the system. You are exhausted and feel that the last step you took to stand on to the summit was the last one you could possibly take. Cold, beyond cold, dehydrated as your water bladder had frozen hours ago, reality sinks in. A sad, statistic realization. More people die on the way down then on the way up. When I really think about it, I personally believe coming down for me is harder than going up.
Whoever’s voice it was in my head had a plan for me, a purpose that I still had to fulfil. I learnt that even in the darkest moments when all hope is gone and you feel you cannot get up, where death would be a blessing, THERE IS HOPE. Listen to that voice in your head. It doesn't matter what anyone else around you say’s. Whether it be positive or negative, it is what that voice in your head says that will determine where you go.
6 | THE PIT
In one of my biggest athletic years, I finished the Two Oceans, Ironman South Africa a few weeks later, Comrades, Ironman Brazil, climbed Kilimanjaro, ran over 10 Marathons and Ultra-Marathons. As you can imagine I had put my body though an enormous amount of pressure and pushed it beyond what I should have. While it was an exhilarating year, I came off with an injury. During a knee replacement whilst in hospital I caught a nasty virus that left me with a disease called Central Regional Pain Syndrome. An incurable disease, rated as the one of the most painful.
I had never heard of CRPS before I thought this was something you get at 19 from partying too much or something. They say 1 in a million get it. I thought 'just my luck, one in a million and I get it.' Why couldn’t I be the one in a million that wins the lottery? I used to live in constant pain. Every day. Its nickname is “suicide disease”. It seemed my dreams of completing the seven summits were gone. I thought I would never stand on the start line for my 10th ironman. Still trying to prove a point to myself and never seeming to get closer to achieving it. I was halted, stopped, dead in my tracks.
Even though I had accomplished so much, I still felt I hadn’t done enough. I still had a void which I couldn’t fill. My wife would say "what are you chasing?" I was chasing an impossible dream.
After this news, I focused my attention to my businesses. I have been very successful in my life and have made a lot of money. I started my own businesses which I successfully ran for 27 years. I opened a HR and Labor Law Consulting business and ran it successfully for 12 years. I ran both together and both were very successful. I sold both companies to retire and said "Well, it’s time for SUN, SAND and COCKTAILS."
Unfortunately, I encountered a terrible incident, I was knocked off my bicycle, I was being Hijacked, my attacker pointed the gun at my head and pulled the trigger... it didn’t go off. Instinct took over me and I pushed him causing him to fall. He fired a shot that hit me in the leg. He stood up and shot me in the stomach. I was then left for dead. I was saved by a good Samaritan that took a wrong turn, he saved me with a single medical glove and a roll of masking tape. I was Air Lifted to hospital. It took me two years to be able to look at the photos that were taken of the scene. This was the second violent attack on my life in 4 years that left me mentally disintegrated. I pushed everyone away. I pushed them far from me, I eventually found myself alone. Depressed. I cried every day, tears I thought would never end.
Suicide entered my mind many times. I had lost hope. To make matters worse, The Investment Fund I had put my life's earnings and savings. Over 15 Million Rand into, DISOLVED. I went to bed a wealthy man and woke up... broke. My entire life's work... Gone. I was devastated. I wanted to die. I was in the deepest pit, depressed, demotivated with no purpose.
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7 | REDEMPTION
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I had to make a choice. Choose life, or choose death. To lose my wife and my family or book in to a hospital for a month. During my stay they prescribed me pill after pill, I was on 8 tablets a day. My wife said to me half the time she didn’t think I was aware of my surroundings. I was on 30mg of PACs a day where the maximum prescribed dose was 10mg. I was on 4 benzos, which are highly addictive and your body becomes reliant and addicted to them, resulting in the dosage being increased constantly. I was not a nice person to be around, I alienated everyone I knew and loved.
One day I decided enough is enough and made the decision to quit, I quit cold turkey. I desperately wanted and needed my family back. I went through PURE HELL for 4 weeks I was in hell. In fact, I wasn't in Hell, I was in Hell's basement.. I did some research on the drugs prescribed to me, 30mg of PACs is equivalent to 3 hits of heroine a day. Those $ weeks of detox were the worst I have ever experienced. Death seemed the only answer as I never believed I would never get better. I didn't sleep for 15 days. The early hours of the morning were the worst. My demons presented themselves daily, the voice in my head kept telling me this was an impossible journey. I had the medication right there in the drawer next to my bed. I opened the drawer every day but never took a single one.
I wanted to beat this and was willing to do whatever it took. 2 weeks in, I was exhausted, unable to function or work, unable to focus or see any happiness or beauty in anything. I honestly nearly gave in. 3 weeks in, I was at least sleeping and I had a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel. 4weeks in, the shaking and vomiting had stopped, I was sleeping and I think I even laughed for the first time in a year and a half. I thought to myself I've got this! That voice in my head changed and told me you can do this! I put my family through hell. I spoke to my son one day and he said "DAD I DON’T CRY ANYMORE AS I HAVE NO TEARS LEFT I HAVE CRIED THEM ALL OUT." That shattered me.
Overcome with devastation as I realized and understood what I must have put him through. That message left me with unbearable guilt, remorse and a deep sadness. It made me wonder what it must have taken for my family to stand by me, who in their right mind wants to put themselves through that. The thing is as much as I pushed them away, all I wanted and needed was their love. I wanted them to tell me it would be okay. Unfortunately you cannot help someone that doesn't want help or does not put in the effort to change. CHANGE REQUIRES ACTION.
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While looking for the answers to help myself I stumbled upon NLP, (Neuro-Linguistic Programming) I studied and taught myself how to take control of my mind and emotions and to understand why and where they come from. I put in the work to understand my mind, the power of thought, to become self aware, to take responsibility for my life, my choices, my mistakes. Its not about what happens, Its about what you do about it. Life is about choice. What you choose to do with your circumstances, to find a way or fade a way. To be average or Exceptional. To learn from an experience or to victimize yourself. To give up or to never give up. At the end of the day, the only one who can make those choices for you, is YOU!
It may seem like a mountain is too big, that can't be climbed. But how do you eat an elephant? (Metaphorically speaking) ... One bite at a time.
It is not easy, please do not fool yourself, It requires courage, effort, action, persistence, commitment, discipline, time and failure. but the freedom from the chains is worth it.
I have stood on the finish line of the hardest one-day event in the world 10 times. I swam across the Atlantic Ocean and stood on the top of some of the highest mountains in the world. But in truth those 4 weeks in rehab was the hardest thing I have ever done, but truly the most rewarding. I have my family back.
I had the privilege to go back to Snowdonia with my son. Starting my life at 16 it was the first mountain I climbed. He was 18 and beginning his life. We got battered by the weather, strong winds and cold but together we made it. What a moment for me. I had a lot of time to think, I wondered what it was that got me through the tough times, how did I overcome the obstacles that constantly seemed to be put in my path? I have read a lot of motivational books, listened to many Speakers but nothing resonated with me. But the moment I stood on top of that mountain with my son, it all made sense. I realized I had to change, I had to get better and get my life back on track for not just for me but for my family, my children. It was then that I discovered that I could change my life, That the choice was mine, and mine alone.​​
