Navigating a Life Swept Under the Rug
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Discover my unique journey. Here I open up about my ongoing mental health struggles and how I am channeling my personal experiences into a passionate advocacy for change.
Welcome to Mystic Shadow Forge! I’m Danny Shadow, a resilient advocate of the written word’s transformative power. Inspired by Tupac Shakur’s demonstration that writing should be used to improve the world, I now craft my own journey. I use the pseudonym Shadow. This depiction is my tool to connect with you on a personal level, breaking free from any preconceived notions. It invites you to see me as a person rather than a hasty stereotype. In a world where appearances shape opinions swiftly, relating with me through a shared perspective might bridge the gap. I am glad you are here.
My childhood was challenging. I grew up in a blended family after my parents’ divorce. The divorce complicated my life, leaving me yearning for affection and fearing abandonment. This yearning led to complexities in my childhood. One complexity occurred in the Fourth-grade when friends abruptly excommunicated me, triggering my first suicide contemplation. Attempting to hang myself, the poorly tied rope led to me knocking myself out on the floor. Tears flowed and I wondered why I survived.
After this shocking experience, I adopted a false bravado and alter ego. I boldly expressed myself through roleplay, gothic attire, and an unhealthy obsession with romance and video games. Despite ridicule for attention-seeking choices like singing Disney loudly and publicly, I thrived on being different. Avoiding vulnerability became my niche. I formed surface-level connections to shield myself from potential hurt, choosing quantity over quality.
In my early teens, my unconventional approach drew people into my circle. For certain, I appeared carefree and silly—boldly myself. Upon early high school, a serious relationship consumed my time. I only focused on my significant other, academics, and theater. It was during this period that I noticed a pattern in my moods, cycling between intense highs and prolonged lows.
Entering early adulthood, challenges intensified. My significant other and I faced difficulties, leading to a rocky relationship. Struggling with deep depression, I found myself living in the basement of their parent’s house while working at Staples. Isolation became my constant companion as old friends drifted away to pursue college life. Strained familial relationships added to the weight on my shoulders, pushing me to seek something different.
During that period, I reconnected with my just-released-from-jail cousin. Despite their bad influence, their confidence and freedom appealed to me. Seeking a taste of genuine affection, I immersed myself in a toxic friendship, sacrificing my identity in the process.
My relationship with my cousin was complex, and my life-altering decision mirrored that complexity. The companionship my cousin offered promised to inject undiscovered popularity into my life, dispelling monotony and normalcy. Connecting again with my cousin provided a therapeutic cushion during a time where I was pushing away from my more immediate family.
Now, understand that I had repeatedly tried to reform my cousin from his criminal ways during our childhood. This struggle left me with a deep sense of obligation and guilt. My cousin tapped into those feelings regularly, using echoes of our shared history as leverage.
In my early twenties, I ventured down a perilous “dark road,” desperate to escape my depression. This decision was justified in my mind as the way to finally get through to my cousin. I believed that by traversing this path, I could pull us both out.
This one choice led to abandoning my significant other. In some ways it makes sense, it is only natural to outgrow relationships as you age. Our relationship, while rooted in genuine affection, had become stagnant. During that stagnation, I began to feel a desire to experience someone and something different. A big reason for this desire was my significant other’s huge involvement on my formative years. From ages 15 to 20, they were essentially my only non-casual connection. This desire to be free and single solidified the choice to embody my cousin’s characteristics and move forward alone. With that, the ‘dark road’ seamlessly guided me toward a tumultuous transformation paralleled by self-defiance.
I later recognized that this “dark road” was a manifestation of mania. I disrespectfully ended my previous relationship, plunging into a chaotic lifestyle of drugs and parties reminiscent of 90’s hip-hop culture. In my tumultuous journey, I became entangled in the most toxic relationship. It was characterized by a destructive mix of drugs, infidelity, and cruelty. Consequences ensued, including a D.U.I. for driving under the influence of marijuana and accumulating significant debts with multiple companies. Amidst the disorder, I convinced myself that I didn’t care about the repercussions. I subscribed to the belief that I wouldn’t live through my twenties anyway.
At 23, a call from my cousin shattered my world, revealing my new significant other’s betrayal. The emotional turmoil was so overwhelming that I blacked out, my mind fixating on a single, dark purpose: suicide. In this state, I lost awareness of my surroundings, dissociating from reality. Acting on this impulse, I left my car, likely with a door slam, walked to a nearby bridge, and jumped. I cannot overstate the weight of the moment; I would have perished if not for my significant other’s miraculous intervention. Just in time, they saved me, pulling me back from the precipice.
Later that night, consumed by despair, I made desperate attempts to complete the earlier suicide by accelerating my car towards a group of sturdy trees. However, the intense blackout had subsided, and I kept slamming the brakes at the last moment. Frustration and a flood of emotions overwhelmed me, leading to a moment of raw vulnerability. Unable to carry out my destructive plans, I stepped out of my car and wept. At this breaking point, I sought help and checked into the hospital, receiving my first diagnosis: “Severe Depression.” The manic phase had subsided, and the insidious depressive side came to the forefront.
After that pivotal moment, I saw the military as a potential avenue for turning my life around. Fueled by manic energy and an inflated ego, I made a determined effort to leave behind my self-destructive habits. For example, I drastically cut down on my drug use. Although prompted by the D.U.I., I incorporated physical activity, cycling 4 miles to and from my job at Burger King. Despite well-meaning attempts by others to advise caution about enlisting, my determination remained unwavering. I enlisted, secured necessary waivers, completed boot camp, underwent culinary & submarine school, and eventually I served both on a Fast-Attack Submarine as well as in the desert overseas.
My military experiences were intense, and my manic-depressive states only worsened afterward. While I’ll skip the intricate details, I have memories of excessive violence, drinking, isolation, and anger. I have left a trail of strained or broken relationships—both romantic and otherwise. A range of destructive impulses characterized this turbulent period. Upon leaving the military, the impact of my sickness had only intensified.
Directly after the military, my feelings were all over the place. I was having so much trouble sleeping and was diagnosed with Sleep Apnea. By far, the most devastating feeling was depression. I was feeling unemployable. Week after week I applied to businesses, but nobody would give me any attention.
Then, I was recruited into a company called Vector Marketing. There, I underwent a group interview, offered training that resembled more of a three-day brainwashing session. Paid very little at first, sales representatives were independent contractors uncompensated for gas or other expenses. But the impulsive allure of promised riches fueled my exacerbated mania, duping me into the painfully addictive world of selling Cutco Knives. When other, non-manic people would likely reconsider, I would continue on until I had nothing left and was reliant upon family. On the business front, I adopted a ruthless approach. Leveraging my connections to the ground, I aggressively marketed through family and friends, coercing recommendations to expand my reach. This dedication came at the cost of any personal life. I relentlessly pursued and achieved their sales goals but lost myself in the process.
My military experience normalized my submission to group authority and my isolation from my family and friends, leaving me vulnerable to Vector Marketing. Exacerbated bipolar episodes only heightened this susceptibility. And I wasn’t the only target. children at the cusp of adulthood are Vector Marketing’s main squeeze. Surprisingly, there are many commonalities between the veteran and the high school student experiences. One commonality is that each environment sought to ensure obedience and compliance. Additionally, in both settings, individuals are expected to adhere to strict rules or face humiliating consequences. For instance, in the military, even minor infractions like a blemish on the uniform or not saluting a passing officer are exploited. For a student, it could be as simple as having the wrong style ID. Vector Marketing’s monthly ‘leadership’ meetings and rallies exploit these vulnerabilities, coercing sales at any cost. The most rebellious victims were often dismissed by the company as ‘incompetent’ upon their departure from the company. All those tactics are cult tactics.
Vector Marketing groomed me into their management team and tasked me with opening an office that would replicate their predatory model. Unfortunately, this “promotion” relied on me targeting vulnerable high school and college students. Regardless of the nasty approach of this company, I hold myself personally responsible for the many young lives that became casualties at my influence. That is something I deeply regret.
Eventually, personal bankruptcy marked the downfall of my Vector Marketing business. My downfall mirrored the failures of previous managers in the same location whom had a track record of hustling for only a year or two. Although I didn’t see it at the time, my failure was a reflection of their company and not of me. After all, with such a track record at that location, it was obvious that they had hand-selected me to fail. Originally naïve about the cult-like nature of Vector Marketing, my manic-phase flourished until it eventually ran out of steam. I went bankrupt, faced frequent depressions, and struggled to acknowledge any illness. I self-medicated and was involved in countless episodes of risky behavior. Seeking solace at the VA Hospital, I received a correct diagnosis. After learning about my bipolar condition, I connected the dots between my military experiences and my tumultuous decisions post-service. During, my military service, my bipolar condition had worsened, producing longer and more frightening bouts of mania and depression.
Unfortunately, it took another 3 years of my life to recognize those manic-depressive episodes as symptoms of my illness. Following military service, I pursued Vector Marketing as a viable career; that pursuit then led me to alienate my friends and family and subsequently isolate from them. Indeed, I had treated them all as though they were merely tools for me to use in pursuit of a manufactured ambition. In the unethical telemarketing job that followed, I only received minimum wage alongside exploitative commissions. I could only afford to live in a rooming house where I befriended questionable individuals and became entangled in even more toxic and abusive relationships. My depressive cycle worsened and my new connections kept me locked inside with it. As suicidal Ideations began to mount, my story could have easily gone the other way and this slider would not exist.
I was fired from that miserable sales job because I was caught explaining how we were being treated poorly and the work was unethical. My boss insulted my mental health and fired me. They reached out more than once to “allow me” to work for them again. I laughed because it was ridiculous. They have since been shut down. Even though it felt morally correct to act the way I had, the job loss came with overwhelming suicidal ideation. Unlike in my youth, I recognized the severity and eventuality of these preoccupations. Shortly after, my mom reached out to me with some kind words. Despite feeling powerless and depressive, her words were enough that I sought help from Veterans Affairs. It’s frustrating to think that my time in the military exacerbated my illness, but offered no diagnosis, help, support, or recognition for it, nor solace from it. I lost five years of my young life serving the country amidst deplorable environmental and cultural conditions. After 5 intense years full of military-inflicted scars, I then spent another 5 intense years coping blindly with symptoms of severe mental illness.
After my diagnosis, I pursued a career as a public educator. Over three years in the role, I grappled with the overwhelming demands of the education system. For example, grading 120+ essays in a workweek far exceeded the meager four-hour prep time provided. It was unmanageable during work hours. Additionally, a consistent influx of multitudinous responsibilities further compounded my stress. I was required to lesson plan for a new mandated curriculum each of the three years I taught and for multiple grade levels! Were these demands ever able to be prepped during the summer? No, it always began in the fall at the beginning of the school year. The students were absolutely the best part of the occupation. Sadly, out of necessity, for many passionate and hard-working teachers, students are not the focus they deserve to be.
In my last year, I was teaching around 140 students with a wide spectrum of varying English proficiency levels. This came with unbelievable challenges and everyone had “guidance” to give, none of the guidance being adequate enough to provide what each student needed to enjoy learning and thrive at it. With wide variance in proficiency levels, teaching higher level courses requires scaffolding and differentiation from, at the very least, an additional teacher who is purely focused on our multilingual learners. Expressing these challenges to our superiors often resulted in dismissal or judgments disguised as feedback. Unfortunately, unreasonable expectations like these have become the norm in education. Acting as though it is within any solitary teacher’s capability to effectively manage both learning levels and English levels per student with oversized classes while teaching complex curriculum is a shame on our education system and our culture.
I experienced many systemic issues as a teacher. In schools, there is a blatant lack of support, resources, and respect for both teachers and students. These systemic issues have pushed me to advocate for comprehensive reforms. I’ll continue to delve into specific challenges and proposed changes in my upcoming blogs. My aim is only for positive and radical transformations in our education system.
Since diagnosis and treatment, my life has taken a positive turn. I’ve married a wonderful person on the path to becoming a citizen, and together we’ve welcomed beautiful kids. They are my anchor, supporting me through the ups and downs of my mental health journey. Reconnecting with my parents and family has been a crucial part of my healing. I’ve invested time and effort into rebuilding those relationships.
Despite these positive changes, I recognize that certain challenges will persist. Stress, social anxiety, and sleep issues remain significant hurdles, making long-term job stability a complex endeavor. It’s this realization that has guided my decision to become a content creator. With this work, I can openly share my experiences and contribute to making the world a better place. Simultaneously, I’m also pursuing an education in IT. I would like to secure remote work, allowing me to prioritize my family and maintain the balance my heart seeks.
I invite you to join me on this ongoing journey of understanding, healing, and resilience. While our stories may be unique, their commonalities connect us all.
B.A. in English
UNH
Proud Veteran
United States Navy
M.A. English Ed.
Salem State University
