The Religion of Discipline

Hating yourself isn’t something that just shows up one day—it’s bred into you over years, sometimes decades, of trauma, abuse, abandonment, and betrayal. It doesn’t go away with a few motivational quotes or a self-help book. You don’t just “get over it.”

The only way it ever starts to fade is when you live the best life you possibly can in spite of it. Not out of revenge or ego—but survival. Healing. Redemption.

Instead of being sad, I got bad.

In this digital age, I’ve seen more and more people online who reflect exactly what I feel. The toughest men you’d ever imagine—elite athletes, fighters, bodybuilders, soldiers, ex-cons—they all have a story. Most of them come from nothing. A lot of them have survived abuse, addiction, prison time, loss, or all of the above. And what’s wild is, they don’t hide the pain—they own it.

Most of them still wrestle with self-hate. They don’t care about money or flashy success. Their sole focus is the discipline, the grind, the sport. It’s the only thing that keeps them going. And that right there? That gives me hope. Because I see myself in them. I hear them talk in interviews and it feels like they’re speaking for me. I used to think I was alone in how I felt. But I’m not. Some of them had it even worse—and still built something incredible out of the ashes.

That right there is healing. That’s my kind of religion.

3AM Workouts? That’s My Church.

I don’t know anyone else doing what I do, not around me anyway. But people like us—the ones who carry that quiet rage, that past—we do it because it’s what works. Depression, trauma… they don’t leave you alone. But you can shock your brain back to life. Cold showers. Fasting. Sleep deprivation. Brutal workouts. Controlled suffering. That’s how you rewire the mind. It’s like shock therapy. After that, those dark episodes can’t hold on the same way. You brush them off and keep moving.

I Don’t Negotiate with Weakness.

When that alarm goes off at 6AM, I don’t snooze it. I don’t talk myself out of it. I get up. I get dressed. I go train—no matter the weather, no matter how I feel. Once that’s done, then I relax. Then I eat. Then I handle the rest of my life. And when it’s time for bed? I make myself go to bed. Discipline isn’t a punishment—it’s how I take care of myself.

I live like this because I have to. Because it works. Because it’s who I am now.

And if you’re reading this, and any of it resonates—just know you’re not alone either.

This is Iron Resilience.