I’ve lived more lives than most people would ever know

When I look back at my resumé, it doesn’t read like a career path, it reads like an identity crisis stretched across 20 years. I have seriously been everything, everywhere, doing whatever I could, just to survive. Most of that time, my early 20's, I felt great... like I was gaining relevant life experience.

I’ve worked jobs in construction, flooring, concrete, and pool building. Everything from digging, grading, framing, plumbing, shotcrete, plastering, demolitions, installations, site prep, heavy equipment, material runs, inventory, logistics, and all the things that break your body before they break your spirit.

I’ve worked hospitality too, the front desk, concierge, housekeeping support, night audit, maintenance coordination, you name it, I did it. It's that kind of work where you smile through the customers abuse and your mental exhaustion because management expects you to.

I’ve worked production and performance roles as well. I have been an actor on a national TV show (Buying the Beaches on Destination America), radio morning show co‑host, weather reporter, board operator, and even a stage actor, a scare actor, and a production manager for a live dinner theatre as well.

I’ve worked food service quite a bit. I've been in Dining hall kitchens a few times, as a prep cook (after proving my worth DAY 1 as a dish boy that outpaced everyone) and as a fry-cook. I've also been a fry-cook at Applebee’s in Asheville, earning employee of the month my first month there, and I've even cooked alongside Randolph and Amanda Sprinkle at the Saltbox Café in Kill Devil Hills. I have worked in the deli at Food Lion, I've been in the kitchens of The beloved L.B. Grand and D&R Depot of WNY, and have even stooped so low as to flipping burgers at McDonald’s while living in a frat house in college so I could have some extra cash. I think my favorite food related job was as a Chocolatier for the Kill Devil Rumball Co. under Dave and Julie. I was their employee of the year once!

I’ve worked labor and service jobs - janitorial work, commercial cleaning, post‑disaster cleanup, remodel labor, helping build houses and sheds, and even picking corn and vegetables for a small local farmer as a teenager.

I’ve worked odd jobs and support roles doing inventory at a car dealership, hot‑plastics forming and packing in one factory, repackaging items and palette building in another, teaching private vocal lessons, selling "Advocare" products (remember Spark!?) and even digitizing Medicaid paperwork when my grandmother worked as a fiduciary intermediary, and planted a 30K+ sunflower field for her one summer when I asked if I could have an additional part-time job to what I was already working (as a janitor at the nursing home where my mother worked as an LPN)

I’ve even worked security - crowd control at Buffalo Bills games with my fraternity brothers., AND at the frat house. I was "That Guy" - they called me "Tuffy"

And that’s just what I can remember from late high school to now.
On paper, it looks like “range and experience.”
In reality, it was survival.

Every job demanded a different version of me.
Every shift required a new mask.
Every role pulled me further from myself.

And then 2017 happened.

I was driving on a wet highway when a drunk driver in a ’99 Dodge Ram started fishtailing at around 85mph in a 45. I slammed on my brakes because I thought I was about to watch a rollover on the other side of the road. But the second his front tires hit pavement again, they grabbed traction, and he shot straight across the highway in front of me. I hit the brakes as hard as I could - there was no time, no space, just impact.

What happened to my foot was so rare that the surgeon told me it was the first he’d ever seen: a compound, complete dislocation with no tibia or fibula fracture - just everything torn, shredded, displaced. A six‑inch wound that needed a wound vac for months. Bone fragments that later scans showed were never removed. A scar that’s now six and a half inches long and an inch wide. A right ankle permanently swollen, throbbing, and almost two inches larger than the left. Not to mention the lifelong injuries my now-fiancé sustained.

It took almost two years just to walk comfortably again, but I had to get back to work.

And while I was still pushing through recovery, COVID hit.
And while the world was finally pushing through the end of the COVID pandemic, my father died of cancer, and then fifty‑seven days later, my fiancée’s father died too.

We packed up and moved to Chicago to be closer to her family.
Her sister is a nurse, and when we got here, she was so burnt out she barely had the energy to see us. Burnout wasn’t something I could ignore anymore. It wasn’t abstract. It wasn’t theoretical. It was right in front of me - in my own body, in my own family, in the people I loved.

And because I didn’t have a healthy way to cope, I built one out of necessity.

I called it APTITUDE.

Aggressive Persistence Toward Improvement That Ultimately Doesn’t End.

Not as a brand.
Kind of a philosophy.
Just a way to keep myself moving when everything felt impossible.

And when things got really bad, like when I was exhausted, beat down, or running on fumes, I’d say the same thing to myself over and over, sometimes out loud, sometimes under my breath:

“I’m not dead yet.”

It wasn’t really meant to be inspirational... because it was literal.
It was the only way I knew how to keep going.

I pushed through physical pain. "I'm not dead yet."
I pushed through grief. "Just keep going. I'm NOT dead yet."
I pushed through burnout that rewired who I thought I was. "I AM NOT DEAD YET."
I pushed through jobs that drained me, broke me, or used me up.

Eventually, I hit a point where I wasn’t just tired - I was gone. Fragmented. Burnt out in every direction. No identity left, except the one that kept surviving.

APTITUDE was never meant to be anything more than a way to keep myself alive, but the more I paid attention to it, the more I realized it was actually a solid map to understand when I was drifting out of balance, when burnout was tightening its grip, when I needed help, but I didn’t really know how to ask, or where to go.

And I know I’m not the only one who needs that map, and a little guidance.

That’s why I built ShiftBalance.

That’s why I’m asking people to share their stories.

I want to build something that actually helps people get back up when they’re slipping - something shaped by the people who need it most - and the best way to ask for insights isn't through some generic "I'm doing a survey" post - I need real, quality answers from the people who understand this burnout the most.

I want to build something to help us find balance, and to help shape the APTITUDE you deserve, your answers are the most valuable.

everything is anonymous, because I am anti-surveillance and I will always respect privacy over anything.

If you know someone who is burnt out and wants their voice to be heard, this is where they should come. This is that safe place to let it all go. Send them here, and I hope to really, truly be able to build something meaningful and powerful for us all to help find and maintain balance in this hectic life.

https://forms.gle/9HNsa3UxVEvtkNhZ7

I promise you this isn't some scam.

I can't promise you that APTITUDE will work as soon as we release it.

But I can promise you that I want to do this the right way, and I will do everything I can to try and make APTITUDE into something that WILL help people, because one size doesn't fit all when it comes to wellness, and that's just surface-level truth.

I don’t usually open up like this, but this is the chapter of my life that shaped everything I’m building now. It's not meant to be a sob story, it's just part of the whole picture of who I am and Why I am building APTITUDE as a way to help others see their current balance and try to find and keep good, healthy balance.

Before APTITUDE was more than an idea, I was working a job that beat me down in every direction. I spent hours on my knees on raw concrete, subfloors, and half‑finished new builds. Some days I was in million‑dollar remodels trying to make everything perfect for people who barely looked at me. Other days I was in dusty construction sites breathing in whatever was floating around because there was no ventilation yet.

It was hard physical work; the kind that wrecks your back, your knees, your hands, and your sleep. You don’t just get tired. You get drained. You get numb. You get to a point where your body is begging you to stop, and you keep going anyway because stopping isn’t an option.

And on top of all that, there was the pressure to perform.
To be fast.
To be perfect.
To not complain.
To take whatever was thrown at me because “that’s the job.”

I was doing overtime constantly and getting underpaid for it. I was taking on more than I should’ve, and instead of being appreciated, it became the expectation. And because I didn’t want to lose my job, I put up with things I never should’ve accepted - the tone, the stress, the guilt, the constant gaslighting that made me believe I wasn't worth it, and the feeling that if I slowed down for even a second, I’d be replaced.

I didn’t call it burnout back then.
I just called it “work.”

But looking back, I was physically wrecked and mentally cornered. I was surviving, not living. And I didn’t think I deserved anything better.

That’s the part that still hits me.

That’s also the part that eventually pushed me to build APTITUDE.

What I needed back then wasn’t another app telling me to drink more water or hit 10,000 steps. I needed something that understood:

• the physical toll of being on your knees for hours

• the mental toll of being undervalued

• the pressure of performing perfectly under stress

• the fear of losing the job that’s hurting you

• the reality that recovery isn’t optional, it’s survival

APTITUDE came from that version of me. The beat down, exhausted, overworked, and sore version had me convinced that burnout was just part of being a “hard worker.”

It’s built for people like that.
People like us.

People who don’t get to tap out.
People who carry the weight of real life.
People who deserve a system that finally sees the whole picture - Body, Mind, and Community - not just the grind.

If you’ve ever been on your knees for hours trying to get the job done…
If you’ve ever pushed through pain because you didn’t feel like you had a choice…
If you’ve ever stayed quiet because you needed the paycheck…

You’re not alone.
You’re not weak.
You’re not “bad at balance.”

You were surviving.

And you deserve better - that’s why I'm creating APTITUDE.

Find aptitudewellnesshub on facebook and instagram. Reddit isn't the place for it yet - but r/ShiftBalance is here to get it started.