The Fade: A Spiritual Journey Through The Heart of Traumatic Brain Injury

“When my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” – Psalm 61:2

There’s a quiet struggle that began for me long before I ever realized it. It didn’t come with sirens or visible wounds, but in subtle shifts—in memory, in clarity, in how I processed the world around me. For years, I pushed through it, but over time, it became clear that something deeper was at play. It continues in the quiet of one’s thoughts, in the fading recall of names, memories that meant so much, and in the fracture of time within the mind. This story is not unique—it is unspoken. It is mine.

Throughout my 30-year career in Special Operations, my life has been defined by intense moments. I lived a life fueled by mission focus, but not without consequence. What I once thought was “just a headache” was the earliest onset of a much deeper problem—Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). The decline of mental capacity began silently, buried under a relentless pursuit of operational excellence. But eventually, it surfaced, revealing the true cost in a world that demanded everything.

1. The Forge: Training Without the Full Picture

“My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge.” – Hosea 4:6

The seeds of mental decline were unknowingly planted in the earliest days of preparation. During this period, we weren’t just training hard—we were redefining the limits of human endurance. The standards were tough, but we believed in them because the stakes were high.

• Relentless Repetition: During intense workups, the weapons and tactics we trained with weren’t theoretical—they were necessary. Whether it was Immediate Action Drills, heavy weapons, CQC, or explosives, we pushed ourselves and our teams to ensure readiness. However, I didn’t yet understand the cumulative impact of that high-intensity repetition.
• Training Days: During our training as instructors, we conducted 2.5-hour rocket evolutions, comprising 13 separate training events, over a two-year period. We fired far more than the later-recommended limits—five times over during some evolutions—Karl G's, LAW rockets, and AT4s added to the invisible load already carried. The headaches were brutal, the nose bled often, but the mission was clear: prepare the warfighter.
• Lack of Awareness: We were committed, not careless, we followed all of the known TTPs and SOPs, but there was a gap—no one warned us about overpressure exposure, about blast waves hitting the brain, or about what decades of this would do to our future selves. We were strong, but not invincible. We did what was necessary, but without the full picture or knowledge of future damage.

2. The Fight: A New Level of Intensity

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in Him, and I am helped.” – Psalm 28:7

Combat deployments brought a new level of intensity—this time, with real consequences. Combat operations placed me in the eye of every storm, clearing the way while exposing myself to relentless concussive trauma. The toll this took was real, though I refused to acknowledge it at the time.

• Breaching Realities: As the number one or two man of a four-man breach team and later a lead breacher, the charges scaled in size, the minimum Safe Distance was often halved, which doubled the overpressure impact. Even with the right gear, the brain doesn’t negotiate with blast waves.
• Internal Breaches: Inside buildings, the concussive force didn’t just bounce—it multiplied. Pressure had nowhere to escape. Each charge slammed against the skull from all sides. At the time, it was just the mission. Later, it was the fog, the confusion, the memory lapses.
• Cost Beyond the Mission: Adding to the current issues, behavioral signs manifested between three combat deployments—short temper, irritability, blackouts, justified anger, etc... Through it all, alcohol was a cultural force that did its best to numb everything, including the disarray and memory loss. The warrior's mask remained in place while the internal compass spun out of control. TBI doesn’t knock you out; it erodes you from the inside.

3. The Awakening: Redemption and Rebuilding

“He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” – Psalm 23:3

For many years, the storm within had been growing and had reached its peak. What the intense training and battlefield couldn’t break, the internal chaos almost did. But God stepped in, and everything changed—not instantly, but eternally. My mind still struggled, but my heart and soul were rescued.

• A Spiritual Shift: Eventually, I fully surrendered my life to Jesus. That was the turning point—not for healing the damage had already been done, but for stopping the inward destruction. Christ became the anchor in a sea of mental chaos.
• Cognitive Resilience: I began reading again, playing brain games, and returning to school - it was an act of war against decline. My foundation in leadership, built over decades, has enabled me to excel even as memories slipped.
• Dual Realities: There were two worlds. One where I performed with excellence, met every requirement, trained, and led with strength. And another, where I’d forget past names, places, conversations, and lived experiences. Internal and external Social moments became foggy, and I learned to “smile and nod” when stories were told that I didn’t remember being a part of.

4. The Reckoning: Retirement and the Truth Revealed

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties.” – Psalm 139:23

As I was getting ready to retire, it was supposed to be a rest stop. Instead, it became a reckoning. The mask of performance was removed, and the true damage could no longer be denied. I finally saw the depth of what TBI had done to my mind, and I had to face it head-on.

• The Diagnosis: As retirement approached, I underwent cognitive testing, MRIs, and assessments. The diagnosis was TBI-induced Tourette’s and massive shearing on the left side of my brain. No precursors to Alzheimer's or Parkinson’s—thank you, Jesus. But the damage was undeniable and undoable.
• The Loss of Memory: Throughout my career and retirement, symptoms continued to mature. Entire memories are inaccessible. Watching old videos with family is like watching someone else’s life. The laughter is familiar, the faces are loved, but the moments—they’re strangers. I’ve sat with friends only to listen to stories I can’t remember living through. They laugh, they recall certain things during our times together, and I nod, smile, and pretend I remember, hoping the details might suddenly come flooding back. Sometimes they do, but often they don’t.
• God's Grace: There is grace even in forgetting. The love of my family is unwavering. The bonds with my friends remain unbroken. While memories may fade, the meaning behind them holds firm. What I cannot recall with my mind, I still feel in my heart. I may forget the details, but I will never lose what shaped who I am. Each day brings new opportunities to create moments that matter—and for as long as God gives me breath, I will make them count.

Memory - Affected Brain Region(s) - Result / Damage

• Episodic Memory - Hippocampus, Prefrontal Cortex - Loss of personal life events
• Semantic Memory - Temporal Lobes (Left Side) - Loss of Facts, names, concepts
• Emotional Memory - Amygdala, Hippocampus - Flat affect
• Retrieval Process - Prefrontal Cortex + White Matter - Can’t “find” the memory

In the Context of Blast/Overpressure Injuries

• Shearing injury: Brain matter gets stretched/damaged due to different tissue densities moving at different speeds → major in white matter (communication highways).
• Encephalomalacia: Brain softening, often from localized tissue death → destroys memory centers.
• Virchow-Robin spaces: Enlarged in neuroinflammation → correlates with cognitive capacity.
• Hemosiderin: Iron deposits from bleeding in the brain → cause inflammation, damage to neurons.

Closing Reflections

“And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.” – Galatians 6:9

Mental capacity is often assumed to be a constant—something you can always draw from. My account had been overdrawn for a long time, in ways I never fully understood. The true cost isn’t just physical—it's cognitive, emotional, and spiritual. And yet, in moments lost, I hold onto what matters most: faith, hope, and grace.

This journey has shown me that even when the mind falters, the soul can remain anchored. Even when memories are lost, life and love remain. The Lord’s light still shines through. I do not walk this path alone. I do not fight this fight without purpose. My story is a testimony.

Now, I maintain my mental equity by staying proactive. I read, continiously write, and study daily to keep my mind sharp, fluent, and engaged. I journal and use a structured calendar to organize my thoughts, track key moments, and hold onto memories that might otherwise slip away. Other techniques used include therapeutic and enhanced brain activity techniques, VR and adventure therapy, as well as lifestyle modifications. Most importantly, I spend focused time in prayer and Scripture, aligning my thoughts and emotions with God’s truth and peace. These practices don’t erase the damage, but they remind me daily that I am still moving forward, and still held by something greater than myself.

“I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 3:14

I am staying strong, keeping the faith, and continually driving the needle forward—purpose remains, and the mission continues.