If you've followed me on other platforms for some time you'll have noticed I occasionally share articles about mental health and depression, especially among entrepreneurs. It is a topic I strongly believe we need to discuss more often.
Entrepreneurs take risks. And when the sun shines bright and the money hits the bank, life is good.
However for most, the risky nature of business means that your could pour your heart, money and energy in a project for months, only to have it fail on you. One day you're on top of the world. The next you're looking down the barrel of a gun.
A strategic partnership could end up in a nasty breakup, or even worse, turn against you and cut you from your income , freeze up your assets in a lawsuit or take away your customers or key assets and expertise.
Funding could fall through.
The market and technology could change and suddenly the strategies and systems you spent years or months perfecting have become obsolete in the blink of an eye.
Now I'm not sharing this to gather pity for us poor hustlers.
Truth is, we are a special breed of masochists. It's that risk that keeps us on our toes, keeps us vigilant.
We live for the thrill of the unknown, for the celebration of our victories.
But we are a lonely breed, often isolated even among our peers.
And when those situations happen it's not just our finances and our pride that takes a hit.
Our mental health can easily shatter from the blow, or simply from fatigue, stress and exhaustion.
What I would like to discuss in this message is the reality of PTSD among entrepreneurs, the stigma around it, and the havoc it can leave in its path.
Consider what follows a personal account of my journey through hell.
I debated whether to share this, but felt I had a duty to do so - so that others may perhaps avoid the same fate, or be better equipped to deal with it should it happen to them or people inside of their circles.
The sun was already shining bright when I woke up on that morning morning at 5:45 am, just a year ago, almost to the day.
But it wasn't the first thing that hit me when I opened my eyes.
Instead of welcoming the new day ahead, I was filled with dread.
I had hoped that a good night's sleep would alleviate my condition, but the night came and went and I was still battling the worst anxiety and panic attack I've had so far.
It had begun the day before, in the late afternoon, after hearing some news which cast uncertainty on a project I had been working on and to which I had dedicated the past months of my life.
I felt sick from the stress. My stomach turned into a knot. My throat felt like I was being choked by some invisible force.
The rest of the day went by but the feeling of dread would cling on. I hoped a night's sleep would fix things - as it usually does, but no such luck this time.
So I spent most of that following day laying in bed under the blanket, hugging a giant plush pillow, and overthinking everything.
Crunching numbers. Once. Twice. And a third time, in case I made a mistake the first two times prior.
Or watching cartoons.
Those rituals seemed to help and to keep my mind off of the pain and anguish, at least momentarily.
The feeling of sickness was back, even stronger this time. I wanted to puke. My entire body felt like it was burning from inside.
Eventually, it came to pass. I got out of bed. I did some laundry. Made myself a good meal. Sat down to write this update.
So here's the thing you must know about me: Until a few years ago, I had never had to deal with anxiety or panic attacks. I was a happy-go-lucky guy and a smart-ass who flew by the seat of his pants most of the time.
It all changed after encountering the perfect storm of personal, financial and health cataclysm while I was living on a semi-permanent vacation after relocating to the Philippines at the age of 24.
Without going into details, my health and finances were hit hard, I crash landed back into reality and let go of my entire business.
I wanted out.
I took on desk jobs in an office to pay the bills and dig myself out of the hole I was in.
And for a while, it was mostly good.
However the damage had been done already, and anxiety and panic attacks had now become something I grew accustomed to and had to learn to manage as best I could.
It also became some kind of secret shame - I wasn't the person I used to know anymore.
And by our media and community's standards, I had become a failure. A broken individual
We see it everywhere, the inspirational posts admonishing us to hustle everyday. To work harder for what we want.
We are bombarded with pictures of men in suit and luxury cars.
So let me say this:
Fuck it. You are worth more than that. Much more.
Take care of yourself.
Don't get greedy (looking back, my entire misfortune could have been easily avoided, but greed was at the heart of my downfall).
Never feel bad for needing or taking time off.
Consistency is important and required, but there's no point burning yourself you.
Know your limit.
Set your own boundaries.
You don't have to be "on" and chase dollars 24/7
Also know that shit will happen, so make room for that.
Otherwise your 40 hour schedule will explode in a 60 hour mess. The extra stress will backfire on your productivity.
Less is more. Trust me.
You don't have to change the world.
What the world needs more of is happiness, mindfulness and awareness.
Slow and steady wins the race.
You don't have to work 80 hours a week for a few hundred grands.
You could just as well retire in a tropical paradise working 20 hours a week and living on just under $2000 per month. This is the beauty of entrepreneurship and the times we live in.
So let me end this with a call to entrepreneurs who may still be reading. Let's stop with the bullshit, shall we?
Suicide and depression rates among entrepreneurs are skyrocketing and no one is fucking talking about it.
Every single time we network, in person or on social media, it's all about establishing authority. Creating presence. We are quick to ask others what their biggest challenges are, looking for an opportunity to provide value and cash in.
But next time you touch base with a fellow entrepreneur - or with anyone for that matter - take a moment to really connect. Ask them how their day went, and encourage them to open up. Set them free from our common delusion.
Make them laugh, not to build rapport in an effort to make a sale, but because underneath it all there's a human being who's spent way too much time worrying about way too much shit lately, and they deserve a break from it.
Make space for vulnerability. Listen to the tone of their voice and look into their eyes when they tell you they're ok.
Because I can guarantee, a lot of them aren't doing as well as they'd like you to believe. And it's ok.
Dare taking a risk on the underdog.
One day, you might be the one who really needs a shoulder.
And I promise the authentic relationships you will build this way could be the most beneficial and gratifying for both you and your business.
My dinner is getting cold.
Time to grab a bite, put on some loud beats, kick ass and chew bubble-gum.