Rewired

R.P. Shanahan

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Building a life you don’t need to escape from rpshanahan.substack.com

5월 7일

Making the Most of It

I thought the hard part was starting the job. Turns out it was waiting to start it. I’m now almost done with my second week of the new gig. But I was supposed to start on March 30. My first day was April 27. I did everything right. Had it all lined up. Was ready to start the next chapter. I left my job of nearly eight years. Went out on a limb. Took a leap of faith. Then, I waited. And waited. Here’s what happened and how I got through an unexpected sabbatical. Somehow, it took my new company’s vendor more than seven weeks to complete my background check. As my start date approached and still no word, my anxiety kept spiking. My start date was pushed week after week. Left with no income, no insurance, and most importantly, no control. Stuck in a state of limbo, my mind went off in a million different directions. Did I make a terrible mistake? Why is this happening to me? Should I have just stayed where I was? I planned to take one week off in between jobs. I went five weeks without working. Unsure of when we would have insurance again, when my next paycheck would be. Forced into a state of inactivity and insecurity, I had to figure out how to keep my head above water. I did not handle it well. I found myself checking email constantly. Refreshing it every few minutes sometimes. Unconsciously opening my phone and checking it several times an hour. I did it so many times every day. I tried to stop myself but I just couldn’t. It took me until the last week for me to finally show some self restraint. This psychological toll spread from my mind to my marriage. The desperation and helplessness led to tension at home. It’s not just me anymore. My wife and son are on my insurance now. And we we were now going without insurance for who knows how long. My role as a provider was put into question. I’m not the sole breadwinner by any means. My wife does very well with her new business. But I pride myself on providing for my family, getting us good insurance, and bringing in a stable income. Now, all of that was gone. This purgatory paralyzed us in a constant state of fight or flight. The worst case scenarios were considered. What if I didn’t get the job? What if that one thing comes up in my background check and they withdraw my offer? My job at my old company was just filled. The backup of going back to my old job was no longer an option. What if something terrible happens to our son and we have to pay out of pocket? I had an urge to lash out at HR. It took everything in me to keep my cool until the job became real. I just couldn’t wrap my head around what the hell was taking so long. My hiring manager was similarly upset and embarrassed about how it all shook out. I wanted to force an outcome but there was really nothing I could do. Despite the s****y situation, I kept it together for the most part, despite the tension with my wife. We had our arguments. She was rightfully pissed and wanted me to do something about it. We had been through some tests during our short marriage so far. They might not have made sense at the time, but I truly believe everything happens for a reason. Housing setbacks. Loss. Fertility struggles. The chaos of becoming parents. My wife started her business in early 2025, now, a year later, I was going through a career transition. I didn’t want to just wait and wallow around. I couldn’t just sit and refresh my email all day. I had to decide what to do with the time that was unexpectedly given to me. Here’s what I did instead. I made the most of it. We cleared out 15,000 pounds of lava rock and dirt from our backyard, giving me the opportunity to get after it during my time off. In the extra four weeks off, I was able to finish much of the backyard that had been unfinished for so long. I built a border around the grass area, prepped and cleared the ground for grass seed, dug and installed a sprinkler system, and planted seeds. The grass is now established and I just mowed it for the first time. I also built an extensive paver walkway with rock pebbles in between our other grass area and the hot tub and our fire pit area, then another smaller paver walkway along an area we call The Jungle Cat Club, our hangout area with a hammock where we installed new turf. Nothing better than the feeling of a job well done. Building something with your hands. But there’s still more to finish. I also stayed active. Though I wasn’t up at 4:30am every morning and in the gym by 6am, I worked out three times a week. Got a lot of steps in, especially with all the backyard work. I read a lot. A few books finished. I didn’t write much on Substack. But I did focus on finishing up the latest round of edits on my book, Rewired. I now have a full final punch list to get the manuscript to the last step of polishing before moving on to publication later this year. One book I read was The Pathless Path by Paul Millerd. It’s about leaving the default career path to find a life filled with more meaning beyond the grind of a traditional 9-5 job. One thing he recommended was to take four weeks off from work, a mini-sabbatical, and seeing how you feel. Though I did not plan to do that, that is exactly what ended up happening. It might have been exactly what I needed. Didn’t feel like it at the time. But now, removed from the chaos of that neverending limbo, I realized how I found contentment in that uncertainty, channeling energy into appropriate areas, not lamenting over my circumstances, but controlling how I showed up each day ready to do whatever I could to stay sane and stay balanced. Over the course of those weeks, I accepted the delay. Even though I hated the feeling, I stopped trying to force it. I stopped trying to pray for it to reach its resolve. I started focusing on what was in front of me. I kept my feet moving forward and controlled what I could. I found myself even more grateful to be working again. Counting my blessings that I have a job and new career track I’m moving full spead ahead down. It was a strange saga that I will never forget. I was not always the best version of myself. We got through it together. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t what we had in mind. But I am happy with what I did with my time off. Finally, the day came. An automated email from the background check vendor. I was cleared. I checked with HR. Confirmed my start date was on Monday. It was all over. I was able to negotiate a 10% signing bonus which helped. We are still without insurance until June 1, but the benefits are better and less expensive, so it’s not all bad. I’m not celebrating. I’m not mad at my new employer. I’m ready to get to work and put this whole mini-sabbatical behind me. It worked out. Not the way I planned it, but everything turns out the way it should. I found my patience but I fell into despair and despondence more than once. Life doesn’t always reward you in the way you think it should. Things don’t always happen right away. Sometimes, it drags on and takes time. I was handed another test. Not sure I passed, but I stood my ground despite the lack of forward motion. I’m moving forward even though we were held back for a bit. I did not find enlightenment. I found steadiness. Get full access to Rewired at rpshanahan.substack.com/subscribe

9분
4월 21일

Everyone Loves a Comeback

I stumbled upon Justin Bieber’s performance at Coachella recently. His rendition of Beauty and a Beat was a callback to a simpler time. Just up there on one of the biggest stages, singing along to his younger self on a YouTube video. I was stoked to see him back doing his thing. I looked into his backstory as I couldn’t quite recall what happened. Since the 2012 release of that song and this 2026 performance, Justin Bieber has come a long way. Get full access to Rewired at rpshanahan.substack.com/subscribe

8분
3월 18일

When You Know, You Know

On March 1st every year, the weather changes. The wet, cold, and grey make way for sunny skies and warmer days. Springtime in Sacramento is nothing short of superb. Turning the page on the calendar and just like that, it’s sunny and 70. March is the month of change. And for me, there’s plenty of change coming. Get full access to Rewired at rpshanahan.substack.com/subscribe

10분
2월 25일

Men Without Direction

It was another wet and rainy day in Seattle. I was 27 years old, sitting on the couch, watching TV and drinking alone on a Friday night. These were the nights I looked forward to after working a job that kept me out of trouble during the week. I had teammates I’d play rugby with. Surface level colleagues at work. Roommates who were nice. But weekends were usually like these. Drunk and high. By myself. One morning, I thought, ‘should I just quit my job and disappear off the face of the earth?’ I wasn’t depressed in any clinical way. I was adrift. Coping with a break up that broke me. Trying to figure out who the hell I was and what I was doing with my life. Millions of men are similarly without direction. Living some version of this same story that was my life less than a decade ago. That same lack of purpose, lack of drive, lack of hope, lack of connectedness. It’s a symptom of a larger cultural malaise hollowing out an entire generation of men. Get full access to Rewired at rpshanahan.substack.com/subscribe

30분
2월 12일

Your Life Won't Change Until You Do

I brought a hand gripper to the office—one of those things you squeeze to build grip strength. I kept it at my desk at work. Whenever the panic started rising, I’d grab it and squeeze. Something physical to ground me. Something I could control when everything else felt chaotic. I used it so much I broke it. Sitting at my desk. Staring at the broken hand grip. Trying to focus on the work in front of me. Unable to do so. Alarmed by the tightness in my chest. The heart rate increasing yet again. It wasn’t going away. Box breathing wasn’t cutting it. I couldn’t get it together. I got up from my desk and paced around. Mind spiraling. Thoughts racing. Should I go home? Should I call my wife? Am I going to die? I looked outside at the trees swaying softly in the wind. But in trying to do anything I could to not think about it only made me think about it more. There was no white knuckling this anymore. I needed to help myself before I collapsed under the weight of my own deficiencies. I’d rebuilt my life externally, but internally, I was running the same software. I had to break the pattern. I had to take back control. I couldn’t keep living like this. I’ve come a long way since this early 2025 chapter of panic attacks that shook me. Looking back, I got complacent. Too comfortable. I was running from myself instead of facing my current reality. We all have a version of running from ourselves. Mine was alcohol in my twenties, then anxiety in my thirties. Somewhere along the way, sobriety wasn’t enough. I had stopped doing the uncomfortable work that kept me grounded, that kept me firing on all cylinders. The stress of fatherhood, marriage, and career combined to grind me down until I had nothing left. My body cried out and I had to rewire my mind for resilience before it was too late. I had to rebuild because the structure I had worked so hard to put up was crumbling. Your life won’t change until you do. You are defined by how you respond when things get hard. I had done hard things before and this was another obstacle I had to overcome. First, a quick rewind. I went to rehab in early 2018. Rock bottom hit hard right before that. Second DUI. Fired from my job. Family intervention that I stiff armed to keep drinking. Rehab was a reset. The first steps of a new path on a long journey. I handled those days away so well my counselor actually asked me if I was faking it. I assured him I was not. There was a certainty in my mind for the first time in a while. I knew I had to be there. I knew I had to do this work to get back on track. I learned how to sit with my thoughts and see them for what they were—not letting them impact my mood or dictate my actions. I realized that nothing is permanent. Everything in life comes and goes. The mistakes you’ve made do not define you. How you move forward despite how you’ve fallen short is the true test of character. This helped me keep it all in perspective. Rehab didn’t make me sober. It taught my nervous system how to stand still. It created space between craving and reaction. Cultivated a resilient mindset to be present for my life again and turn it into something I did not need to escape from. The shift from “I’m broken” to “I’m human—flawed but capable.” I tested the new wiring in my brain in those early weeks out of rehab. Living in a sober living house, attending outpatient four days a week, going to meetings the other days, I had to get back to work that paid me. Sobriety and recovery was a full time job at the time, but I had to restart my career. I asked my outpatient group, “How should I address the gap in my resume?” The feedback: “Just be honest.” Leading up to the interview, my palms were sweating. My mind was playing out all the possible worst case scenarios. I knew I had to be honest. But now that I was about to bear my soul to a prospective employer, I almost lost my nerve and took the easy way out. But I didn’t. When the big question came up, I took a breath and told them the truth. That I’d had a problem with drinking. That I’d gone to rehab. That if they took a chance on me, I wouldn't waste it. I got the job. Seven years later, that same managing director who interviewed me said: “he’s the best researcher I’ve ever worked with.” Honesty, even when it costs you or exposes you, is the only way forward. In the years that followed, I stopped avoiding and started confronting. Taking one or two steps beyond my comfort zone. Choosing vulnerability. Choosing not to stagnate. I fell in love. Got married. Bought a house. Got a dog. Was promoted. Became a father. Did all the things. I thought I had it all figured out. That I had done the tough part. But it was just beginning. Beneath the surface, the wiring became disconnected. Back to last year, the panic attacks nearly broke me. Work stress. Newborn chaos. No sleep. Marriage tension and transition. The system was overloaded. There was nothing wrong with my heart. There was no pill to do the work for me. My nervous system was stuck in overdrive. The only antidote was action. A system to keep anxiety at bay. Putting myself in the driver seat again. Every hero faces this call to adventure. They can either leave the comfort of the cave they inhabit and push themselves to transform who they are or they can stay put and wonder what if. I had the choice to double down and push through or retreat to a life that was comfortable. In early recovery, I had learned to become comfortable with being uncomfortable. And I could do it again. The decision: 4:30am wake-ups. Meditation back everyday. Structure rebuilt with fitness, reading, and writing before the sun comes up. I chose different problems—the discomfort of boundaries, the grind of daily habits, the vulnerability of putting my sanity first. We cannot eliminate problems, but we can focus on the problems that demand our attention. A significant change never sticks unless there is a strong foundation holding up the structure. Motivation only goes so far. In fact, motivation builds after you start—discipline creates drive, not the other way around Every morning’s non-negotiables: cold water face dunks, then meditation for five to fifteen minutes. Everything else (writing my book, reading a book, working out, going for a walk, stretching, writing an article) is a bonus, depending on the reality of that morning. Sometimes my son wakes up early. Sometimes I sleep on the floor of his room. Some days I don’t wake up early and that's okay. I’ll get after it tomorrow. Adapt and evolve. Flexible and focused. Action rewires anxiety into agency. I don’t have it all figured out. I still fall short as a husband and father. I still let my emotions get the best of me sometimes. I’m no longer denying my shortcomings or pretending it’s all easy now that I am sober, married, and have a house and family. I am taking it all one day at a time. That’s all we can do. And that effort, showing up daily, no matter how imperfect, is where true growth comes. On days you fall short, the system holds you up. Three things changed everything for me. Mindset. Stopped seeing discomfort as danger. Started seeing it as growth. Action. Stopped escaping. Started sitting with it, then moving forward. Structure. Stopped relying on willpower. Started building systems that work when motivation is nonexistent. Life will always have something else in store for us. A curve ball we won’t be able to hit. The ability to face it all with grace and gratitude keeps it all in perspective. Growth is never a straight line—it’s a constant cycle of failing, adapting, and rising stronger. Your life won’t change until you do. It will take time. It will be uncomfortable—but that’s how you know you’re moving forward. Don’t wait until you’re forced to change like I did. Take one step today, then another tomorrow. Then you’ll look back and smile at who you used to be. Squeezed this until it broke. Learned you can't white-knuckle your way to calm. Get full access to Rewired at rpshanahan.substack.com/subscribe

10분
1월 26일

Eight Years Sober

Eight years ago today, I stopped drinking. January 26, 2018 was the day I entered a 40-day stint in rehab. There was a lot of wreckage behind me. And a lot of uncertainty ahead. Looking back now, I feel grateful for where I’ve ended up. Mid-October 2017, I got in my car after way too much to drink. I don’t remember going nearly 50 in a 25. I don’t remember the impact. I don’t remember what the four parked cars of crunched metal looked like. I don’t remember neighbors coming out to see what the loud noise was. I do remember coming to in the hospital, handcuffed to the bed. Head pounding. Face scraped. Then, back to another night in county jail, sitting on a concrete bench. The smell of incarceration. The sorrow of regret. This was my second DUI in seven years. I’d been flooring it to this moment for years. One drink at a time. One regret stacked on another. I’m lucky I didn’t kill someone that night. I’m lucky I didn’t kill myself. In many ways, I was already trying to. You’d think that brush with death would’ve scared me straight. It didn’t. A few weeks later, there I was again—Tuesday morning, in a bathroom stall on the ground floor of the office building where I worked. I opened my backpack and pulled out a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Screw top, of course. I downed it in a couple minutes. 9am was approaching. The warmth calmed the shakes. Made me feel like everything was going to be okay. For a moment, I stared at the bottle, knowing how f****d up this was while denying how empty I felt inside. This was far from the first time. Same stall two days earlier. More bottles the week before. I was fired not long after. I spent the better part of my twenties trying to escape myself. Running from it all. From the breakup, From the DUI. From my own dark thoughts. I thought if I drank enough, if I moved back home, if I reinvented myself, I could outrun the wreckage. I couldn’t. I had to lose my car, my job, my girlfriend, and nearly my life, to realize I was capable of becoming someone I respected. Nearly eight years ago, I left the treatment facility. Sobriety didn’t start for me because I was brave. It started because I ran out of exits. Jail, institution, or death—those were my options. I chose sobriety. I had no other choice. Not everyone gets this chance. Fewer still take it. I chose to face my suffering, to not become another statistic, and to make the most of it. Sobriety taught me how to stop running from myself. Early recovery forced me to observe my thoughts and feelings for what they are, not letting them dictate my actions. Rehab allowed me the opportunity to look deep inside myself, realizing the damage I’d done to myself and others, while giving me the structure to start to rebuild from the ground up. For the first time in years, I stopped fighting myself and I actually enjoyed who I was becoming. The eight years since haven’t been perfect. I didn’t stay active in meetings, but I stayed sober. I did the work—meditated, journaled, reflected. I learned to forgive myself. I learned to stay the course when things got hard. To choose the long game over the quick fix. My anxiety didn’t disappear. The self-doubt didn’t go away. What changed was how I responded. One day at a time. Then eventually, it got easier. Sobriety gave me a real life. A wife I love. A house we own. A son I adore. Work I’m proud of. Self-respect earned. Not a perfect life—but an honest one. I’m grateful to my parents, who held the umbrella while I weathered the storm. To the counselors who helped me rebuild a foundation. To the friends I made along the way and the ones who were always there for me. To the people who took a chance on me when I finally told the truth. And most of all, I’m grateful to still be here. Eight years later, I wake up clear-headed. I show up as a husband and father. Flawed but present. I’m still standing. Still building. Still choosing to make the most of the chance I was given. One day at a time. Get full access to Rewired at rpshanahan.substack.com/subscribe

5분
1월 8일

Discipline > Motivation

At this time last year, I was having a panic attack nearly every day. I counted down the minutes until sleep would provide a temporary solace from the nightmare that was my reality. I woke up the next morning, got ready for work, and in the car I could feel it. The tightening in my chest. That looming sense of doom. There was no stopping it. This was my life. Day after day. My mind was telling me something, but my body was the form of communication. I would get to work and it would subside a bit, still lurking in the background. I’d do everything I could to not think about it. But then the not thinking about it made me think about it. Then I would be distracted for a few hours by the work in front of me, it would subside until lunch time, then I felt like I was dying again. The workload I had, the poor job I’d been doing to manage it all, and the demands at home all kept the panic right there. My nervous system never reset. My inability to cope with the onslaught of stressors last January kept me on constantly on edge. Going a hundred miles an hour without any shoes on—not even knowing how to find my footing or even where my shoes were. No amount of motivation could change the fact that anxiety was at the wheel. I had to act and act fast. Getting back in the driver’s seat was the only way forward. If I failed, I could lose everything I’ve built and erase all the gains I’ve made. I went to my doctor. EKG came back clean—nothing wrong with my heart. It was all in my head, a clear stream of communication I’d been ignoring. No pill would fix this. No therapist could do the work for me. It was on me to rewire my mind and build a foundation I could stand on. The last 365 days have seen the integration of a system that has helped me find out what I’m made of—with meditation, movement, creativity, and adaptability—I have rediscovered the path. But I did not rely on motivation. It all came down to discipline, fueled by resilience, guided by purpose. I knew I needed a change and I kept at it because I had no other choice. Sometimes you do the thing you need to do because you have to, but I would suggest doing it before you get to the point of having a mental breakdown or becoming crippled with anxiety. We’re all motivated the first week of January. This time of year, we’re inspired to make significant changes to our lives. But this feeling will fade. We will fall short of our resolutions. Our goals will not be achieved. The January desire to be better will disappear by Valentine’s Day and be consumed by the realities of our circumstances. Motivation will only get you so far. We all have reasons for wanting to improve. Countless ways to be a better version of ourselves than we were last year. The regrets pile up into a mountain that cannot be traversed unless we have a plan we can stick to, tirelessly climbing higher from checkpoint to checkpoint until finally reaching the summit. This time of year is for figuring out what can actually be accomplished, what systems can be implemented through repeatable habits done day after day, week after week, month after month. As Arnold Schwarzenegger posted on X on January 1st: “As you start today with all the motivation in the world, remember this: it won’t last. Build a routine. Do it no matter what. When you really can’t, don’t quit or beat yourself up, just do it the next day. Show up, over and over. It is the only thing that works.” Be realistic about what you can actually accomplish. If you haven’t been to the gym in a year, don’t try to go five times a week on January 1. You’ll fail spectacularly. If you’ve never meditated before but want to give it a try, go for a minute, try guided meditations, then work your way up to five minutes instead of starting with a twenty minute silent meditation. We all need to push ourselves into the realm of discomfort to make sure we grow and develop, but we also need to stay inside the arena of possibility. If we fail to stick to our routine, we cannot falter, give up, or become despondent. Just take it in stride, get after it the next day, and adjust accordingly. Habits. Routine. Systems. These pillars become the transformation, but they are held together with discipline. You can have all the motivation in the world but it will come and go and fluctuate with your emotions. You cannot solely rely on it. Though it can help occasionally, there has to be more than an internal desire to change. There has to be a persistent effort and sustainable drive to make it happen. A real gumption. During my season of panic attacks last year, I was convinced there was something catastrophically wrong with my heart. I did not have the tools or the game plan to figure out how to get better. My motivation level was zero. Worse than zero actually. I felt broken. Weak. Like I’d never be normal again. Discipline helped me find my way again. My mornings with meditation and movement gave me back a sense of control. Breathwork tools provided a lifeline when the tightness came in the later months of the year. Over time, my nervous system finally settled and I began to feel like myself again. Going on walks, writing a book, and being present for my son and wife helped me get out of my head and be more in tune with my life. Moving from passenger to driver. Motivation fails us because it depends on our emotions. We cannot rely on our emotions because they can send us down the wrong path. It is important to be in touch with our emotions and realize what they are telling us, but we cannot let them dictate our actions. Motivation also requires constant renewal. It will never stay at the level necessary to keep you engaged in a certain activity or framework, abandoning you when you need it most. 4:00am this morning. My alarm goes off. Son finally slept through the night. It’s been a rough return to preschool following winter break. I slept on the floor of my son’s room the night before to help regulate his nervous system. I’m exhausted. All I wanted was to hit snooze. But my wife was leaving early for an event today and this was the only time I’ll have to myself today. Motivation was zero. Inspiration was below zero. No voice inside my head telling me to stop being lazy and take on the day. But discipline kicked in because it’s something I’ve been cultivating and practicing over the last year. I woke up anyway, jumped out of bed, turned on the coffee maker, drank a cup of water, plunged my face into ice water, meditated, and am now writing this article. Not because I felt like it, but because it’s Thursday and I have a lot going on in my life and I have to make the time to do certain things like write on Substack, edit my book, and read books and articles that fill the soul. So here I am. No secret sauce. No motivational soundtrack. Just doing the next right thing, no matter how I feel. So when my son wakes up early and my wife is out for the day, I can feel confident I did what I had to do for myself so I can be there for my family. Discipline works because it is decision-independent. You do it no matter how you feel, creating an identity shift. I’ve become “the person who wakes up at 4:30am everyday.” Sometimes sooner depending on the day. Later on some days when I fall off the wagon, but those days are few and far between now thankfully. I became someone who does what I need to do in the morning before the demands of the day take over. I find solace in the pre-dawn hours, allowing me to face the rest of the unpredictability of the day ahead with grace. Dig deep and surprise yourself with how disciplined you can be. Three actionable steps for 2026: * Start small. Wake up 15 minutes earlier. Then earlier and earlier until you find the optimal time for you to maximize your morning routine. No idea how to get in shape? Start with a 10 minute walk. Then 5 push ups and 10 squats. * Build systems. Goals are fine, if achievable. Resolutions are unnecessary. Writing a book? Don’t focus on the endgame of a finished book, simply commit to regular writing blocks throughout the week, and before you know it, you’ll have a finished manuscript. Want to journal more? There’s no need to fill a whole page every day. Just start with a sentence or two, see how you feel, then go from there. * Progress not perfection. We will all fall short. A day will be missed. The snooze button will be pressed. A workout will be missed. Fast food will be eaten as the spinach goes bad in the fridge. Acknowledge reality and move on. Focus on the pattern, build the routine, look forward—not backward, and don’t beat yourself up. None of us are perfect. Discipline will always be there if you tap into the resilience inside you. Don’t wait around for that rush of inspiration to change and be better. Find a sustainable system. Set targets to achieve. Be intentional. Be boring. Be excellent. Identify your blind spots and address them. Evaluate what is working and what is not. Dig deep, find out what you’re made of, and rebuild your life from the inside out. We’re all meant to strive, to grow, to flourish. If you’re not on the right track, find out where you strayed and find your way back. There won’t be a “right” moment. The best time to start is now. Hold yourself accountable. Let your actions be your guide. Get out of your head and into your life. Stop setting yourself up for failure by trying to do too much. Demand discipline for yourself. Become unshakably resilient. Motivation and inspiration will not serve you in the long term. Daily habits, monthly systems, and annual achievements will keep you going in the right direction. Stick with it and you will actually be motivated to do more because you will see the results that came with that discipline and always doing the next right thing. Discipline over motivation. Thanks for reading Rewired! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work

11분
2025. 12. 29.

What I’m Leaving Behind in 2025

It’s been a hell of a year—personally, professionally, emotionally. 2025 was never easy, but it challenged me in the best way and rewarded me in the biggest way. I was pressured, pushed, and nearly cracked. I’m still standing. Still building. Ready to push myself farther and be better for those who rely on me. The year forced me to reevaluate my priorities and reshuffle how I lived. A forced reset. Learning to let go and build intentionally. Prioritizing myself so I could be there for others. Handling competing demands and finding purpose in the chaos. 2025 brought clarity and urgency that realigned my actions with my values. It was about waking up and getting back on track. 2026 will be about building on these gains and laying a stronger foundation for my family and myself. The Breaking Point It started in January. My body sounded the alarm I’d been ignoring. Panic attacks hit hard and fast—physical, terrifying, destabilizing. Fear of dying while sitting on the couch doing nothing. Heart racing. Chest tightening. Convinced I was having a heart attack at 34. I was carrying too much, going too fast, never slowing down, white-knuckling life instead of living deliberately. This changed everything. A slow, uncomfortable reckoning followed. The result: a rewired mind and newfound resilience. I tapped into something I’ve always had inside me. Trying to do everything without taking care of the little things nearly broke me. I rebuilt from the inside out—not like rehab years ago, but from a subtler breakdown: burnout, anxiety, distraction. I got back my mornings. Leaned into meditation. Hit the gym. Walked more. Scrolled less. Started writing a book. Took back control. Started being present for my own life. By summer, my body threw another curveball: shoulder pain, knee issues, a sore ankle. Just when I was in the best shape in years. Frustrating. Humbling. Another dose of reality I had to adjust to. The Career Cage At work, I no longer felt challenged or engaged. I’ve mastered my role and built a solid career. But after a rough start to the year, by summer it all felt misaligned. Comfortable? Yes. Safe? Sure. But deep down, I knew my job was a cage. I was stuck in a role I’m objectively excellent at but no longer the best use of my time. I questioned everything: what I was doing, where, and why. I was headhunted for a bigger job in another city. Didn’t get it. But the opportunity shifted my mindset and stirred belief that I’m destined for more. I’m now going after my next role actively—shaping my future and setting our family up to elevate accordingly. My wife has supported and pushed me to be my best. 2026 is the year I finally make the change. I’m leaving behind something I’m grateful for and proud of, but we all have to keep growing. Stagnation can’t be my daily experience. The Home Front At home, life was intense. Fatherhood focuses the mind but spikes the nervous system. The demands were constant, and I didn’t always handle them well. My son went through physical and emotional changes, and I became more aware of my flaws: distraction, impatience, emotional reactivity. We dealt with nonstop crying in the morning, tantrums before bedtime, 1 am wake-ups. Resistance to new foods. Inability to sit still. Now testing boundaries daily and saying “no” constantly. My marriage hit several rough patches. My wife started her own business. She’s crushing it and I’m so proud of her. We navigated childcare challenges and recurring relationship issues. We would have the same fights time after time. Both of us stretched thin, holding on by a thread. It’s what we signed up for and we knew it was going to be hard. But in the thick of it, we both have had our regrettable moments. Two people learning to be partners while becoming parents, managing careers, finances, exhaustion, and emotions. Our son started preschool in the fall—half-time. I helped out as much as I could with work flexibility. My wife’s business is thriving, but managing the workload at home has tapped us out. We took a much-needed vacation alone in November for our four-year anniversary. It was perfect. Then December hit like a whirlwind, and now we’re one week into our son’s two-week holiday break. The Lifeline And with this backdrop, I wrote a book. I’m editing it now and hope to publish in spring. Writing became the way I made sense of it all. I didn’t have time, but I made time because it was vital. A lifeline. A way to process what I’ve been through, how far I’ve come, and help others going through something similar. I wrote before sunrise because it was the only time no one could take from me. I reclaimed my life and wrote about it. Substack has been a fulfilling exercise to hone my craft. Writing Rewired has been cathartic, clarifying, and transformative. It's my life distilled into a playbook for anyone ready to rebuild. What I’ve Learned No, I haven’t figured everything out. Not everything’s fixed. But things are stabilized. I feel more clarity and confidence in overcoming whatever arrives. I know what I need to work on and where I want to go. I learned that anxiety isn’t weakness—it’s information. Comfort is a cage as dangerous as chaos. Presence is necessary as a father and husband. Discipline is self-respect. Growth requires risk, especially when the stakes are high. I am not healed. Not enlightened. Don’t have it all figured out. But this year oriented me back on the path I needed to be on. What I’m Leaving Behind * Reaction instead of intention * Numbing instead of feeling * Coasting instead of choosing * Comfort disguised as safety * Confusing productivity with progress What I’m Building in 2026 Three pillars: Better Husband | Better Father | Stronger Foundation. These are identity-based, not outcome-based. Everything else is downstream. Better Husband: It’s not about doing more—it’s about being emotionally steady instead of mentally absent. Listening instead of fixing or defending. Showing up regulated, ready to respond instead of react. No grand gestures. Just showing up calm, present, and available when things are hard. We have work to do to get back to being partners, and it starts with me. Better Father: I’m a good father. I need to be great. All the time. This starts with presence and ends with grace. My son is observing everything. I need to put the phone away when I’m with him. Take a deep breath when he’s having a hard day. Be patient when he’s struggling. Model discipline without rigidity. Teach right from wrong. Raise a decent man. Through it all, he needs resilience to overcome what I struggled with. Stronger Foundation: 2025 taught me that without sleep, movement, stillness, and physical maintenance, everything collapses. 2026 will be about margin—fewer maxed-out days, more consistent effort, fewer ignored warning signs. Sustainable effort leads to a stable foundation. The Work Ahead This year is about finding purposeful work. I’m done staying put and feeling stagnant. Done feeling small and underutilized. Done feeling competent but constrained. I’m ready for a massive step forward. 2026 will be about work that demands more and gives more back. Writing is no longer a hobby—it’s a strategy for living. I’ll continue writing publicly here and get Rewired out to the world. Writing helps me think, process, and stay grounded. It keeps me awake and focused on growth. The Shift 2025 taught me that discipline without alignment becomes pressure. Awareness without action becomes anxiety. Comfort without purpose becomes decay. 2026 isn’t about grinding harder. It’s about living my pillars truly and fully. I’m building: * A stronger internal operating system * A steadier nervous system * A clearer sense of purpose * A man my son can watch and trust * A partner my wife feels supported by * A life aligned with values, not convenience Forward momentum. Calm confidence. Becoming a published author. Writing regularly. Journaling consistently. Getting my body back in shape. Keeping my mind sharp. Settling my thoughts with meditation. Walking to see clearly. Starting the next phase of my career. Deepening routines, not expanding obligations. Taking care of the little things so I can accomplish big things. This is not a New Year’s Resolution list. Goals expire. Systems endure. Motivation fades. Structure remains. Progress is quiet, unsexy, but compounding. I will be a better version of myself in 2026. I’m putting 2025 behind me but taking everything it taught me. Change is built daily. Systems are created by the habits you choose. What are you building this year? Get full access to Rewired at rpshanahan.substack.com/subscribe

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