Dear Unsealed Community,

When I was 19 years old, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to chase my dream as a sportscaster. In pursuit of that dream,  I started working at the NBA. I commuted two hours from Columbia University to New Jersey, three days a week, because I was committed. I wanted to network with people who worked in sports. I wanted to hone my writing skills and learn more about the broadcasting industry. This job was supposed to be the first step to the rest of my life. But it nearly took me off course, and everyone, except me, thought I should be thrilled.

While working at the NBA, I met someone. He was my co-worker. We had the same schedule – or so I thought. I found out later that he was coming to work when he wasn’t scheduled to spend more time with me. We got along so well. We could talk for hours and hours about anything and everything. Soon after meeting, we started dating, and our relationship escalated quickly. Within a year, he left the NBA and began working in finance. We moved in together in an apartment in New York City and got engaged. I was only 21 years old – still a senior in college. He treated me well. We had no drama – no lying, no cheating, no bullshit—just two young people who genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

He checked every box.

My parents were happy. My friends thought I was so lucky. And in society’s eyes, my life was going very well.

The only problem was that I was miserable. I was not ready to be someone’s wife. I didn’t want to sacrifice opportunities for my career for a relationship. My ring felt like a handcuff, chaining me to a life I didn’t yet want.

I stayed in the relationship for four years because, logically, we made sense. According to society, this relationship is what I should want. But I was so unhappy which led me to question myself more times than I could count.

“Why don’t I want this relationship?”

“How come I am not on cloud nine?”

“Isn’t this is what I should want?”

“Is there something wrong with me?”

Ultimately, it took every ounce of strength I had to end the relationship. It was one the most difficult decisions I have ever made, as I had to hurt someone I loved – someone who never would have hurt me.

However, I knew, long term, it wasn’t fair to either one of us if I stayed in a relationship that I didn’t genuinely want. In the days, weeks and months following our breakup, I felt a sense of relief and freedom. I pursued my career, moved out of New York, and I have since chased every single dream or goal I’ve ever had.

To this day, people still think I was crazy to end the relationship – especially since I am now 36 and single. But I have never had any regrets.

Looking back, I learned that sometimes we doubt ourselves when our desires differ from the expectations the world sets for us. But deep down, each of us know what we want, and all we need is the courage to pursue it relentlessly.

Be who you are – not who others expect you to be.

“It is my duty, as an air rescueman, to save life and aid the injured. I will be prepared at all times to perform my assigned duties quickly and efficiently, placing these duties before personal desires and comforts. These things I do THAT OTHERS MAY LIVE.”

This is the code of Air Force Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR), my profession, and a sentiment that reflects much of my life. From 6 years of volunteer firefighting and EMS, to my 12 years in the USAF as a Combat Systems Officer (CSO) on HC-130’s the CSAR version of the C-130 cargo plane. I have spent my entire adult life even starting in High School training and preparing in hopes that I can prevent someone’s worst day from becoming their last. I have been blessed with the opportunity to do this a few times as well, and it is a level or rewarding bested only by being a husband and father. My life is dedicated to helping others, but sometimes, I need help.

I was always able to deal with the traumatic experiences my work has put me through by leaning on friends who understand. This is often the first line of help one can get and it is VITAL even if not always sufficient. Whether it was my first dead body, or seeing an unconscious classmates broken face wedged between the dash and windshield of her car 2 days after graduation, my many close calls, or losing a close friend; I could always find help and relief in the arms and ears of my friends and family. They gave me the strength and support to ensure post traumatic stress never became PTSD. But that doesn’t mean it was easy. All of these events gave me nightmares; sometimes for a night, sometimes for a week, occasionally for a month. There would be sadness, depression, anxiety. But all of this would fade with time and help.

But what about when that wasn’t enough? For the last 4-5 years I have been struggling with bouts of depression and anxiety. Nothing new, except that it was not tied to anything. I couldn’t get past it because I didn’t have a trauma, life event, or anything else I could associate it with and thus, could not worth through the cause.

In the early days I just shrugged it off, pushed through and got on with life. But the episodes were getting worse, and more frequent. After years of this I was sick and tired, I needed help. After all, being a good husband and father are my top priorities, and this was degrading that ability…

But… I’m a military aviator…

Now, no doubt some of you think you know where this is going. After all, you have seen movies about military aviation, aviators are macho, tough, so surely there is a stigma with getting help! No, actually there isn’t, in fact we share our feelings with each other pretty regularly. No, I was scared I would be grounded from flying and bound to a desk either temporarily or permanently. But enough was enough.

With the encouragement of my wife, I made an appointment with the aviation psychiatrist at my unit. He reassured me that grounding was unlikely and only even a possibility if I was diagnosed with a mental illness. Ok, so now I am less worried!

So I opened up about how I was feeling with the psychiatrist. He gave me some great techniques for dealing with the depression and anxiety such as mindfulness and grounding that have been helping. I have follow up appointments to keep working on this and life is already getting better

Emboldened by that experience, at my annual flight physical with the flight surgeon the next week, I discussed the issue with her as well. She asked some questions about other aspects of my health and determined we should check my red blood count and vitamin D levels. My RBC was in normal limits but low considering I live at 5500ft above sea level and do a lot of running and mountain biking. Probably not contributing to the issue but worth addressing. We also checked my iron which is good so I am now on a B complex supplement. But the real concern was my vitamin D, it was severely low. I never would have thought of it as I spend a ton of time outside. But one of the symptoms is mood swings and depression (hmmm… sounds familiar). So now I am on a high dose vitamin D supplement.

After 5 years of suffering and worrying I would lose my flight status, my fear was unfounded, and what I needed was vitamin D and professional counseling. My only regret is that I didn’t seek help sooner.

Please, if you are struggling, even if it is something you have handled without issue before, reach out. Talk to a friend or loved one. If that doesn’t work, or is insufficient, seek professional help. Please don’t suffer in silence. I am still flying, still doing my job, but I am now also a happier and healthier person on the road to further improvement. And most of all, I am able to be the best husband and father I can be.

Thanks for reading,
SEZ

GOING TO BERLIN IN 1970 -for Hank

They were traveling by train
the whole family, for Thanksgiving
at seventeen it felt like being thirty
courage for the i-am-strong-enough
to face the i-don’t-know-what
speaking German wishing-to-know-words

even so he was in his own thoughts-
Where does genuine live?
Is it In amongst the realizations of the self?

Traveling with another Colonel’s family,
with another son of seventeen
both in railroad overnight sleeper berths
the Colonels had to be in uniform
crossing Enemy Territory as it was
the Enemy’s armed soldiers at railway stops in the dark
warned us not to exit the cars
if the train stopped, must have passports at the ready
should they be demanded by the communists.

It would take all night to get to Berlin due to the many stops
having left the freedoms of West Germany
fluttering on flagpoles at the border.

It was the first time, really, that he was aware,
like no kidding, that the suppression of men could be such
a real thing.

That realization never walked away again
the sight of man’s inhumanity to man
that persisted for the rest of his years

this epiphany became a finely tuned crap-dector
like gauging spoken truths for authenticity
or assessment of mood, or rank, at a glance.

Sometimes both revealing, and understanding, were pushed
into override, with wisps of smoke coming out
he had to get out, away from the despicable source

what of the half-truths
or the lying in the unnecessary competitions
in foolish men’s lives.
Sleep was a casualty of that night.
Excitement of so many AK-47s,
the danger slung on The Enemy’s shoulders
during the travel to West Berlin
so divided (one of the few walled cities left in the world)
the Berlin Wall was a living, breathing beast
the beast was hungry to eat those that loved freedom
the east had walled all around the west city with
guard towers sporting machine-guns overlooking barbed wire.
We were free to think and speak
our minds carrying on the traditions
that was why our Fathers wore the uniforms.

Yet there was Checkpoint Charlie
a passageway out of grey oppression
crossing over into sparkling clean air

the point of cruel suppression, of beyond unfair dictatorship
made by the hundreds of small white crosses
placed to honor where the dead had been murdered

those that had sought out of the chill, shot dead
sometimes having dug under the wire
perhaps hidden in the trunk of a car under blankets.

Those sights stayed with him far into his future years
the detector tuned to not just seeing lies
but to detect the oranges of tyrannical narcissism

he felt as if he had breached the walls of Mordor there
in the east walkers dressed in darks and greys
city streets there unkept, paint on walls peeling

a stark contrast to the bustle of the west side
where there were freedoms even to wear bright yellow
should one want to, and to think unencumbered

he sought the exploration of the Self
ever since, gathering strength
asking The Critical Questions, the hard Q’s
finding his answers where they may be
in a song, poem, or readings of the great works
perhaps in some direct act of a caring sort
observing when life reached that occasional pinnacle
where truth junctured with an intensity

combined with spontaneous, deliberate acts of kindness
produced those moments of humanness
that people remember and talk about for years later.

He remembered Berlin all his life.

His walking up to the communist wall of Checkpoint Charlie
seeing the machine gun in the guard tower
ranging his steps, following his direction
(his Mother standing there wanting to scream)
as he gently removed a loose brick
from the wall just by The Enemy’s gate
even the western Military Policeman directing traffic
watched him step back away towards safety.

Taking that red brick
an act out of a youthful sense of invincibility
became a brick in his own wall
the brick was in his study even now
holding a honored place on a shelf
near the volumes of philosophy
becoming a power cell in the course of his life
a light shining into the darkness
showing what it means to be a real human in the world.

To The Unsealed Community,

When I graduated high school, I honestly didn’t know what to expect from myself.

After getting waitlisted, I got accepted to Columbia in mid-June of my senior year of high school. At the time, Columbia ranked top five in the nation. And while I was thrilled to be accepted, there was a part of me that was unsure if I was worthy of the admission.

I told my family I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t smart enough to go, and I was considering going elsewhere.

My brother, who had just graduated from Columbia, responded, “If you don’t take this opportunity, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I promise you will be able to do the work.”

I trusted my brother and decided to attend, even though I was scared and uncertain if I would measure up to my peers.

My first year at Columbia was by far the hardest. My grades depended on papers, and I wasn’t the best writer. Not to mention, we had to take many required classes – some of which I found pretty boring. But I muscled through it, and I was determined to thrive.

Thankfully, Columbia had a writing center where tutors looked through your paper sentence by sentence and provided feedback. I spent hours each week at the writing center, and after a year or so, my writing significantly improved. So much so that in the last two years of college, I received an A on every single paper I submitted.

It’s hard to believe that I almost passed down an incredible opportunity because I didn’t believe in myself.

Now, whatever challenge I face in life, I still don’t know what to expect from myself. But my experience at Columbia taught me that if I push myself and work hard, I should always expect to surprise myself.

We are all capable of way more than we even know.

Always believe in your greatness,

To The Unsealed Community,

When I was ten years old, I was in love.

I grew up in the 1990s, and like most other girls in my generation, I thought Jonathan Taylor Thomas, aka JTT, was my future husband. He played Randy on Tim Allen’s Home Improvement. I had posters of him in my room, and I listened to love songs imagining the two of us on long walks in the park.

Ahead of my eleventh birthday, my father asked what I wanted as a gift.

I told my Dad, “I would like to meet JTT.”

My Dad chuckled and said, “What’s your second choice?”

I said, “Dad, there is no second choice. That is what I want.”

He told me he didn’t have that kind of power. So, I said fine and told him I would figure it out myself.

Later that week, I went on the internet and started searching. I knew there had to be a way to meet my crush. It wasn’t long before I stumbled across a charity event for Audrey Hepburn’s charity for children. The event hosted movie premiers, fashion shows, and after-parties with child stars in New York City, forty minutes away from my home. The list of child actors had to be one hundred deep: Mara Wilson, Michelle Trachtenberg, Rider Strong, Devon Sawa, and, sure enough, Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

Tickets for events were cheap – $10 -$40 per event, per person. So, for my birthday, my mother and I got a hotel room in the city, and I attended JTT’s premiere of the movie Wild America. I manipulated my way to the front of the crowd and befriended JTT’s security, who arrived at the theater a half hour before JTT did. As luck would have it, like every other man in the world, the security guard had a crush on my mother. I ended up in the elevator with JTT and got a picture and a kiss on the cheek. And then, he sat right behind me in the theater. I swear there were moments when he leaned forward, and I could feel him breathing on my neck. The next day at the fashion show, the security guard snuck us backstage. I met nearly every star there, and my 11-year-old self was in heaven.

One of the qualities I love most about myself is I go after what I want. I don’t take no for an answer. I believe I was born with this relentless and determined spirit.

Whether it was meeting JTT at eleven years old, becoming a sportscaster in my 20s, or starting a business in my 30’s, I have never taken “No” for an answer. No has always just meant, “Find another way.”

Through the years, the stakes have increased, and the challenges are sometimes even more unrealistic. But without looking back, I have continued after whatever I have wanted in life.

Even if some days are hard, I live life with no regrets, no what ifs or would have, could have, should haves.

And while I may not have married JTT, like I once planned. Going after him, along with all the other things I love in life, has made me love myself and all that I am even more.

Dear Unsealers,

November of 2006 was an exciting time in my life. I was 17 at the time and I was going to live in Maryland with my oldest sister. Plus, it would be my first time flying in an airplane, so my excitement was sky-high around the time.

On the day of my flight from San Antonio, Texas to Maryland, a phone call woke me up at 4 in the morning. It was my sister. I remember she asked me if I was excited to come live with her. I could barely answer still trying to get my thoughts together. ”Huh,” she replied. Afterward, I gave a better answer to her before our phone call ended.

Two hours later, I was at the airport. Going through security to get to the right gate for my first flight was an adventure for me. When it was time to get on my first plane, I couldn’t wait to get up in the air.

When my first flight started to take off, the excitement I had turned to fear. The more the plane speed increased, the worse my nerves got. When the plane got up in the air, the anxiety I was feeling had taken complete control of my body.

The realization of being in the air instead of being on the ground had really sunk in my head. Seeing lightning in the window nearby, only increased my out-of-control fear. ”I’m not gonna make it through this flight”, I thought.

The older woman who was sitting beside me in the window seat must have felt the fear I was feeling. She started talking to me. She was so calm like she had been through this takeoff routine a million times!

Her calmness gave me the courage & strength to get through this takeoff. The nerves I felt would disappear, and the plane would finally coast around blue skies & beautiful clouds, way up in the air. I couldn’t believe I was flying on an airplane.

I still get nervous when I fly on a plane, but I know now that those nerves I feel are only temporary until the plane relaxes in the air. I’m grateful for that woman who was on my first flight. She showed me an example of calm courage that I’ll never forget.

Gerald

To The Unsealed Community,

Typically, I am not someone who visibly shows the world how I feel. Whether it was a big loss in sports as a teenager or in fourth grade when a boy pretended to throw up when he found out I liked him, I have often, without even trying, kept a poker face.

But how I look doesn’t always reflect how I feel.

During my first year of college, I was having the time of my life: a new school, a new romance, a new city, and lots of new friends.

I looked like a happy, typical college student exploring an exciting new world. And in many ways, I was just that. However, amid this incredible adventure and privilege, there were moments I was overwhelmed and nearly debilitated by fear.

When the sun went down, I was terrified to walk on campus alone. It was only a year and a half since I had been drugged and sexually assaulted by two strangers. I felt so vulnerable that someone could hurt me again at any moment. Whether walking back from dinner, a party, or my boyfriend’s dorm, whenever I was by myself at night, my heart would race, and I would feel this aching pit in my stomach.

Sometimes, when I made it safely, I would go to a bathroom stall or somewhere private and let out a few tears, just as a sigh of relief. Walking at night on what was a beautiful and, statistically speaking, safe campus was a horrible, unsettling feeling – one that I had no idea if it would ever go away.

There are many ways I could have responded. I could have gone home – quit school, and simply remained in the confines of my parents’ home. I could have stopped going out and stayed in my room after dark. I could have withdrawn entirely and hidden from all my fears.

But I didn’t. Instead, my 17-year-old self, consciously or subconsciously, chose to be brave.

I dared to ask for what I needed and took advantage of those offering to help. I told my boyfriend I was scared and asked him to walk me home from parties or back to my dorm room. If he wasn’t available, there were five other 6’5 football players who told me to call or text whenever I needed someone to walk me home.

I had the courage to keep showing up, to keep walking, and to ask for what I needed, knowing deep down I didn’t want this fear to hold me back. No matter how often my heart raced or I got that pain in my stomach, I kept going out. I kept meeting friends, and  attending parties and clubs. Daily, I left my comfort zone, which allowed me to fully enjoy the college experience.

While I still don’t love walking alone at night, my anxiety doesn’t reach the level it once did. And because I didn’t let my fear stop me then, I certainly won’t let my fear stop me now.

My Zeusy,

When I was a baby, I was born into a home where my best friend lived. However hard times made us leave our home and when we moved my best friend ran away. I always yearned for a new best friend but lost hope throughout life.

When I was 30, I found out I was pregnant with my son. It was a world wind of emotions since a few years prior I went through testing that concluded at the time I wouldn’t get pregnant again, and if I did my pregnancy wouldn’t be healthy, would be high risk and may possibly end in a miscarriage. I was filled with joy and fear as well as anxiety. Over the next few weeks my emotions began to ease up until the scariest day.

I was 5 weeks pregnant; I woke up on a normal day to get ready for work and to drop of the kids to school. When I went to the bathroom I noticed some spotting. While my gut told me there was something wrong I shooed the thought away in a hopes it was just my nerves and fear. By the time I arrived at work an hour later I was full blown bleeding, as if I were miscarrying. I went to the hospital where my husband met me.

While waiting on results in the ER, I picked up my phone and scrolled through Facebook to occupy my mind. I found a post about a dog whom loved his food bowl so much he would carry it with him everywhere. I immediately told my husband that I wanted to go and get that dog. By the time we left the hospital, with complete uncertainty as the results of the test showed I wasn’t miscarrying, the pup had been taken to the back to be seen by a vet and wasn’t available for adoption. We had no intention of getting a pet after that.

However, we wanted to see what options were available. We walked up and down each kennel room, dozens of pups jumping and barking, excited to see people outside of the keepers. We had a pup or 2 on the list to meet but none really the perfect fit. We got to the very last kennel room at the very end, the last pup cage laid a very sad pup. While every single dog was loud and making there presence known, this pup did not. He laid on his bed, front paws crossed over one another, head lying atop of his paws. His sad droopy eyes looked up at me, without lifting his head, as if he was thinking “Oh, just another couple to pass me by.”

His energy was one very familiar to me, DEFEAT! I looked at his bio paper, in a sheet protector hanging from his cage by two zip ties. I found out that he had been there for almost a year and he was found roaming around the streets. It was then that I knew I had to at least help him escape the cage he has called home for almost a year, even if for just a few minutes. I looked at him and said “I promise we will see you in the yard.”

This dog was amazing! He knew his name and he was so well behaved. He played with my husband and shortly after I called him. You see earlier in the hospital I was put on pelvic rest until I saw my doc for a follow up. So I sat down the whole visit with this pup. When I called him over he came right to me and laid his big ol head in my lap. He won me over! However, I was on pelvic rest, my husband was gone from 6 AM until 7 PM, Monday through Friday, our children were to small to care for the pup and he was a 90 pound terrier/pit mix. This concerned myself and my husband, we had to see if this was even fair to him.

We saw another pup that was a bit smaller but he was only a year old, still an untrained puppy, where as the other pup was 4 years old and was well trained. We were about to settle with the puppy, his name was Big Hunk. We decided to see how he was with cats since we were possibly going to get one. Big Hunk was not a fan of the first cat because she was afraid of the sight of him and he lunged at her. I did not hold that against him though, we moved onto the kittens and he did great for a pup. But , he just wasn’t the other pup. So we asked for the other pup to be tested with the cats and kittens.

The keeper went back to get him, stood at the entry way for the cats and kittens, looked down at the pup by his side, pet his head and whispered to him, “Make me proud buddy!” Walked by the cats – no reaction. Walked by the kittens and the keeper had to keep redirecting him to the kittens. He would sniff the cages, look at the cages and then look around like “Okay. It’s a cat. What do you want from me?” I was sold! Lets be honest I was sold before I even visited him in the yard. We told the keeper he was the one and we began the process. We got a doggy bed, a water and food bowl, some toys and food to start our new journey with our newest member of the family.

As I stated before I had to follow up with my doc. About a week later we found out that we were still pregnant, but that based on the hormone levels and the presentation of the flow of blood, I was pregnant with twins and lost one. By this time our newest member of the family had already brought so much joy that we didn’t really feel the pain of losing a twin. See that pup, he came into our home and family and fit perfectly like the puzzle piece that had been missing for years. He was protective and playful, he had a bit of anxiety and you could tell he came from a rough place before he found sanctuary in the Humane Society.
He didn’t like arguing and assumed loud speaking was arguing. He was deathly afraid of shoes. I speak with my hands and realized very quickly he was hit often when I caught him flitch every time I moved my hands while speaking near him. We as a family, including our newest addition had to work together to make this our home, our family, and his fur-ever family! It took some time but everything worked out perfectly.

What you may not know is; that pup is YOU! Zeus, you didn’t have the easiest life, despite the fact that I never witnessed it and you could never tell me verbally, I know. But now you are home! You are my first son! You are my best friend! Alysza’s best friend! Bella’s best friend! Jose’s best friend! Papi’s best friend! You add so much love and life to our world! You have given me scares just like all the rest of are kids. But over all you are the best pup any fur-family could ask for!

Life isn’t always kind but when life gives us gifts they are phenomenal. You my Zeusy Boy are phenomenal! You love pizza, he knows the spelling of it and all the forms it comes in, hehe. And you’re a foodie like the rest of us. You’ve eaten a couch and bed out of anxiety, but I would give a million of those things for you, any day! You amuse me by letting me dress you up, he’s been a skeleton, a bumble and a pup going back to school with a book bag. You talk bag and get petty with your sisters. And my most favorite thing about you, that I’ve never had the blessing to experience until you walked into our lives, you hug! Your hugs are literally the best, love filled hugs. Also, your not a lap dog but I’ll never take that from you Thank you for being the best pup ever! And giving all of us the best 3 years of our lives. We cannot wait to spend a million more with you!

Love Always,
Your Fur-Ever Mommy

P.S. To all the readers – Get you a partner that looks at you the way Zeus looks at pizza!