Why? The easiest answer is to tell you I am sick and tired of going to jail, hurting people who loved me and desperately wanted to show me love, teach me love. Another answer could be to make my mom proud or show my 3 children who I do not see or speak to that I did something amazing with my life and I am not the guy they think I am. I could say that IT just wasn’t fun anymore.
Drugs, lies, cheating, more lying, irresponsibility, abusing myself and others, mentally and physically.
Godless, unforgiving, broken, anger, hate, rage….empty
That jail cell was cold even for a small claustrophobic room with around 90 people. There I sat in a $260 ripped shirt, $400 designer jeans and polka dotted socks, perfect jail attire, trying to remember why I am handcuffed the in a position that Circus performers would be miserable in. My nose is bloodied, hands are cut and I am in an altered state of mania, cocaine and alcohol.
The mania stems from me being a very odd kind of Bipolar that is incredibly maddening. There is not really a medication that I can take to make me normal, just one to paralyze all that I am. The highs of my brain are exceptionally beautiful and fun. The lows are dark, disillusioned, unsure of reality and seem never ending. Mix alcohol and cocaine and then you have a recipient for disaster. Imagine being locked in an coffin, deep under ground with the coffin being an animated LED wrap around screen of over stimulating, dark, evil, chaotic images on hyper loop with your eyes wired open. Then the earthquake comes, a never ending earthquake.
That moment in jail is what helped me shape My Why. The other 5 times I was in jail in a suit or designer clothes in a similar manic state, I just thought of escape plans and excuses for my behavior. I was out of jail fast enough to not really learn any lessons even though I swore to myself I had. No. Not really close. I am extraordinary by the way. I forgot to tell you that. I am extraordinary at anything I decide to be and in the past I decided to be extraordinary at what ever my sickness told me to be. I say that and it makes me so sad. It is so true and as I write that I immediately think of my twins, a boy and girl and my 16 year old daughter who I love so much and she will have nothing to do with me. I have excuses, none of them are valid because regardless of the issues, problems or setbacks this is about a child.
I can blame being abused by my father. I can blame my sisters disappearing out of my life when I was 7 and not understanding why. I can blame being molested. I can blame a lot of things and there is no truth greater than the damage I caused myself. I choose to start drinking and doing drugs to I make myself feel normal enough to be around people, to be social. It helped me the life of the party!! I told myself it would help me make friends and to this day I believe it actually prevented me from making friends. No one ever really knew me. Few do now and I am willing to finally show who I am. I also choose to not seek proper help other than the times of being forced too. Truth is, the dark, the emptiness was my refuge.
I have always been told I have a gift to connect with people in very special ways. I “see” people. I am a hard working compassionate person who would do anything for anyone in need. Yes, even in my darkness, that was me. I cared more than anyone could ever know and desperately wanted people to love me back even though I was incapable of accepting their love. I was told I was going to do amazing things in the world and I believed it too! It was just so confusing to me how I kept hurting myself and others, how I could keep setting myself backwards with bankruptcy and divorce. Jail. Broken lives. How? It was that belief however that always made me get myself out of the ground and get up and fight. Heck even if I was running away from my problems, I was still fighting. I would not quit.
After the 3rd day in jail I was 90% sure that I would be there for at least 5 years from what I was told by my mother and girlfriend on many of the obsessive collect calls I made to get updates and to beg my mom to bail me out. There was a moment about day 2 I picked a Bible, the only thing I could read, and started reading. The Kings James version of the Bible. Every time in my life I have even looked at that version of the Bible I would read a few sentences and say to myself “No one talks like that!” and put it down. I could not really put it down this time around because even though I was frustrated not understanding the words I needed to fill my mind with things other than making a noose out of the bed sheets and ending it, because that seemed like my best option at the time.
For some reason, I remembered my friend John, an old drinking buddy, turned pastor saying to me “Start with John”. Now, I know he was not speaking about himself and he may not have ever said that to me but in my brain he did. SO I did. I read the whole book. Nothing. Then I went to Psalms. I bounced around in that book a while then for some reason went back to John. Now things started to make sense. Well, a little more. It made enough sense that I felt myself screaming at God to talk to me. I started singing songs that I kind of half remembered from not paying attention in the Baptist church I grew up in. I sang anyway. I was already in an isolated cell so I do not think I cared to much at that moment what the screaming, prisoners banging their heads against the cells thought. Still Nothing from God. “Then I screamed out what do I need to do to change?!?!?!?!?!?!”
Just like that, God shot through me like a shock wave the message I have been told by others before but I ignored. I was to blinded by rage to hear. In that moment I heard, felt “You must forgive your father.” Without argument or delay of any kind I screamed, “Dad, I forgive you. I forgive you and I am sorry I could not do it before you died. I am sorry I disrespected you in your death by not coming to the burial and making mockery of your funeral. I am sorry. I love you and please forgive me.” In that moment, my heart broke. My heart broke free and felt love and a connection I cannot explain to you to this day. I believe it was the Holy Spirit and this post is not meant to be a religious message but ti is the truth.
My Why finally began in that instant. My Why started with if I ever get out of jail I am going to make things right. I am going to live my God given purpose and all of the pain, rage, anger, hurt and brokenness was not going to go to waste. I would use those experiences to be compassionate, to care, to understand others. Me, in my designer suits or trending clothing will connect with the broken, wicked, diseased, lost souls of all walks of life no matter how well off financially they are or not. I have sat in jail with meth addicts and murderers and felt just at home as I have with billionaires. I am not better or worse than anyone, no matter what you have done in your life. Maybe just maybe, me getting through my Hell can help someone else.
My Why is not business related. It is purpose related. I chose an entrepreneur life to give me the freedom and time to spend time on personal development and not be censored by the corporate world. I chose to walk the path God wanted for me. I screw up daily. I am not saint. I am on a mission of personal growth and reaching others. When you see me talking about my products and services it is NOT to sell you anything. I believe in what I do and I know it has helped a lot of people and it will help millions more. Just know that my purpose for success in my businesses like consulting, Liquid Biocell or anything else I do, is to help give me a platform to reach and help others. My desire for success is less to do about money as it is about serving and helping others.
That is My Why. God Bless you and Thank you for reading.
I would love your feedback! Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. God bless you!
Joshua T Berglan