Five Weeks in the Amazon - #true #story

Part 1 - Introduction

Above is the video from the successful Kickstarter campaign which is where the process of becoming an author began.

Part 1 - Introduction

Last year I wanted to kill myself—It wasn't the first time—that happened back when I was seventeen and ran away from home. I have a great family, so I didn't go too far, but I just felt so miserable I didn't know who else to blame. If only they could understand what I'm going through, I thought—but of course they couldn't understand. I didn't understand it myself. All I knew was that it didn't feel right to be alive.

When I was a teenager I fell in love with skateboarding. I was good, too—good enough to be the first Canadian to be featured on the cover of our national skateboard magazine twice in one year. Sometimes I blame myself for not pursuing my career further. Maybe I did sustain too many injuries, or I might not have been talented enough to be great, but the truth is, during my early twenties when I should have been proud and confident of my achievements, I didn't have enough energy to focus on skateboarding. I was too confused by the amount of pain I was in every day. The first doctor told me what I was going through was normal, that my depression would get better with medication. The next doctor didn't help me any more than the first, misdiagnosing me with Bipolar Disorder. I started doubting everything to do with mental health treatment.

The problem was that I never trusted the way the anti-depressants (Prozac, Wellbutrin, Zoloft) or mood stabilizers (Lithium) made me feel. If I was ever happy, I didn't know if the feeling was authentic or if it was a byproduct of taking my little "happy pill."

Feeling unsure about my future as a skateboarder, I transitioned into a managerial role within the skate world. I planned, drove, and did skateboard demonstrations with 12 other skaters across the entire country, and started feeling pretty good about myself. To help my depression, I began seeing an acupuncturist who, I guess you could say, began seeing me as well (she started it: I was just lying on the table when she climbed on top of me). I moved to California and started managing higher-profile pro skateboarders like Ryan Sheckler, Danny Way, and Paul Rodriguez. I stopped taking my meds.

When I was 24, I met the president of the Dominican Republic when I organized the first team of pro skaters to ever visit the country. We had a 30-person MTV staff filming the whole thing for Sheckler's show, Life of Ryan. The next year, I was flown first class to Tahiti. We got to stay in those fancy over-water bungalows and the president of that country flew us in his private jet to Bora Bora. That year, I made a six-figure salary.

However, by 26, I had nothing. I mean nothing. I denied that I had any mental health issues, instead blaming my unhappiness on my job, my relationships, living in Venice Beach, the traffic, the people—I blamed everything and everyone but myself. I turned to drinking more and taking drugs more often. I lost all sense of financial responsibility and never made it past living paycheck to paycheck. I was fired from my job just after Christmas that year.

I came up with an idea, though, a career no one had thought of before. I was going to become the first person to coach professional skateboarders. At first people thought it was absurd: why would skateboarders need coaches? But I believed that just like in most sports, good coaching could directly improve performance.

I had known Ryan Sheckler since we competed together in a contest called Slam City Jam, and our friendship grew when I was his team manager. After he broke his ankle in the finals of the 2009 X-Games, I told him I wanted to help him make a comeback. He hired me to coach him while he prepared, and with my help, he won the 2010 gold medal.

The next athlete I worked with, Aldrin Garcia, won the Guinness World Record for the highest Ollie. Not only did he break a record that had been untouched for 15 years, he did it after being air-lifted to the hospital with a concussion and a broken jaw two weeks earlier. I'm most proud of that one.

In 2012, Red Bull hired me to work with Ryan Decenzo, another top professional skateboarder. That year, he went into the finals for the NBC Dew Tour in second place, needing to beat Paul Rodriguez for the overall championship. Ryan won the championship, decimating Paul and every other competitor.

I was successful again, but my personal life was still a disaster. You would have thought I learned my lesson when I married a Dutch model after only knowing her for one month. But I didn't. During all the successes, and especially during the failures, I kept coming back to the feeling of wanting to die. I didn't hate my life. I hated how much it hurt to be alive.

I had stopped taking medication years before and convinced myself that if I just worked out a little more, or ate a little healthier, or found a more fulfilling job, then maybe I would be happy. But this never happened, and I was tired of waiting. Leaving everything behind to find answers and adventure, I went to the Amazon jungle to live with a shaman and figure out a way to fix myself.

Let me tell you about the trip that saved my life.

This is my story. It is all true, and I am going to share it here, on my favorite writer's website, #Wattpad for free (don't tell Amazon).

Thanks for taking the time to read my story, looking forward to hearing your thoughts,

Sean