As I juggled multiple women, the chaos finally caught up with me. One day, I went to pick up my girlfriend of 13 years, unaware that someone else I had been dating, her name was Ana, for five years would see me. I had known Ana and her family for roughly 15 years by that time. Both women were mutual connections from my baseball days, and the confrontation was inevitable. That night, both women cornered me, shared stories, and confronted me face-to-face. I sat in silence, unable to deny the truth. It was one of the most humiliating, painful moments of my life.
I spiraled. I cried uncontrollably, full of shame and self-hatred. Friends stayed on the phone with me fearing I might hurt myself. The next day, my therapist immediately recommended I be admitted to the behavioral ward at Porter Hospital. My mental state was fragile, fractured.
Soon after, I found myself in Loveland, Colorado, starting ketamine treatment — a psychedelic therapy designed to rewire the brain. I didn’t know what to expect. Over six sessions, I began to uncover the roots of my behavior. During the third session, I experienced ego death — a terrifying moment where I felt alone at the beginning of the universe. But it also reset something inside me. I came out of that session feeling grateful, present, and alive.
DBT therapy followed. Three times a week, three hours per session. I learned about boundaries, emotional regulation, and that “no” is a complete sentence. Things that seem simple now, but back then were profound. There was a deep down hidden meaning why I obtained 3 masters degrees, 2 bachelor degrees and owned 7 properties. Every therapist that I have explained my history, all told me the same sentiment, “you are not addressing something”. I finally started open my eyes.
As the fog cleared, I started reflecting on my upbringing. My great-uncle had told me repeatedly: “Always have a good-looking woman on your arm. Worry when they stop looking.” And whenever I dated someone, the feedback was never “Are you happy?” or “Do you love her?” — it was “You can do better.” I realized I’d spent my life seeking external approval, running through relationships trying to please others instead of myself.
This realization broke me… but also rebuilt me.
When a former boss asked me, “Jeff, what do YOU want?” I had no answer. But now I do:
I want traditions. I want silly game nights. I want to wake up next to the same person for the next 50 years. I want depth and love and family.
No more looking outward. No more adrenaline-fueled emptiness. I meditate now. I manifest. I slow down and enjoy the little things. I’m learning that healing isn’t linear — it’s messy and painful and powerful.
And when life gives me the chance again — I will dance.
🌀
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