THE STATE OF THE HAM: SUMMER 2026
Blog Bad Time God Moments Posted June 12, 2026
I:
It all started when I lost my job back in March, which in itself is nothing new under the sun. But I was in an incredibly toxic work environment and I was adamantly refusing to acknowledge it. It wasn't always this way; I led my location to top regional rankings in customer satisfaction and workplace culture. I was even able to help restore another location of their staff.
But the writing was on the wall once I came back to my original store. I suddenly faced a much more questionable crew who not only didn't care to do their job properly but liked to take every word I'd say and twist it into a lesson of cruelty. No longer did I have those lovely green fast times I'd proudly post every night. I've voiced my concerns quite loudly to my manager and whoever was still willing to listen, but they would either be brushed off or I'd be given some easily defensive spiel like "It is what it is!" or "There's your story, there's their story, and somewhere in the middle is the truth!" If you are surrounded by people who won't stick up for you or defend you when problems first arise, you've already lost.
But I was convinced it was still my fault somehow. Things came to a head one night when I had a lobby full of livid customers, an oven area overflowing with orders, and an openly insubordinate co-worker who was giving me such a hard time that I ended up staying nearly three hours past my shift to make sure everything got done. It didn't matter, as my manager refused to acknowledge the full-page report I generated on why I felt physically ill. They even painted me posting about visiting my old college grounds ( in a vain attempt to calm myself ) in a negative light.
That's when I experienced my clarity event. That's when every suspicion and gut feeling I ever had seemed to be confirmed at once. And that's when I finally stopped personalizing everything and acknowledged that I had been blaming myself for issues that weren't mine to carry. I could've let my emotions go and told everyone how I really felt before storming out. Instead I had this eerie calm about me, just politely allowing the register to be put under a different name before clocking out and quietly leaving.
II:
I've always believed that feelings can be dirty rotten liars, but they still need to be addressed rather than be ignored and swept under the rug. All my suppressed emotions ended up coming out in some way or another, and it became about as messy as you can imagine. I couldn't drive anywhere without needing to take a break every few minutes. I couldn't even push a grocery cart and make my way around the store. My body became so sensitive that I couldn't even have someone sit on the other side of the couch from me. Every movement of their arm or leg felt like an earthquake.
I ended up going to therapy, and my hopes were high when the therapist in question was licensed to diagnose underlying conditions and had an alphabet soup of credentials to their name. But they discouraged the use of my journaling, dismissed any language that resonated with me like "empath", didn't bother to give me homework, and ended up telling me to just apply myself. I've already gone on record about how my wife and I were refused to be treated at various hospitals unless we were actively dying. The same thing apparently applies to counseling centers. There are good ones out there still, but it shouldn't feel like playing the lottery -- especially when a life is possibly on the line. For what I was being charged per session, I could've booked a bus trip to another country, got a cheap hotel, gotten a read of the culture around me, and had a much more enlightening experience.
III:
It was already a given that I would see who my real friends were once I became much more reserved with my resources. But even those who are well-meaning can still be toxic.
At one point, I reconnected with a childhood acquaintance. I fell out of contact, mainly due to them bombarding me with messages. And while time did nothing to alleviate this, it was at least nice to have someone give a listening ear and try to help with prayers and prospective jobs and whatnot. Unfortunately, what I ended up getting was someone who questioned even my good days, my spiritual gifts, and why I never responded to the dozen messages they left overnight as I was sleeping. The last thing they said before I blocked them was "You don't actually want to accept help!"
This person, basically.
Anyone in the mission field needs to understand that people in pain often need patience more than pressure, and anyone who has been manipulated and bullied and betrayed half as much as I have will want to make sure their help is real and genuine.
And good help really does exist out there, but sometimes the answer might have been in front of you all along. My wife and I ended up revisiting a church we had long since written off, and it took a lot of faith to accept that these leaders were interested in outreach again. Turns out it wasn't just a front or some last-ditch effort to keep their doors open; They were following through with their plans by installing a new pastor and agreeing to hold a special service to acknowledge previous hurts and conflicts. Much like what happened at work, I really have been carrying all these burdens alone. With my heart effectively crystallized, it's no wonder I struggled to feel any love of God at all... so it's nothing short of poetry that this body has been addressing every need we had since I've been out of work. And it's a good thing they have, because I was out of work for quite a while this time around.
IV:
I've never had this much trouble finding work, even during the Great Recession. I must have applied for every job in my town. I must have applied for hundreds of jobs on LinkedIn and other platforms. I've even revisited some places that had previously turned me down, just to see if anything had opened up. I was drawing some weird conclusions for a while, like how my town was supposedly conspiring against me or how if someone like me with a stacked resume and portfolio can't get anything, what chance would anyone else have?
It all became apparent once I was brought on as a team lead for another pizza chain. I was excited and ready to finally be back working when my body decided to attack itself. I couldn't shower or keep anything down, so I didn't exactly leave a good first impression when I called my boss with a gurgling, froglike voice. Clearly I still need therapy. Clearly there's going to be some growing pains as I try to convince my body that I'm in a good, supportive work environment for once. And clearly the Lord has protected me and ensured that I would never fall apart on a magnitude like this ever again.
So long story short -- Don't give up. Things may get worse before they better, but things will always get better. As my personal story develops, I am also developing the final parts to the story for my upcoming video game. It's easily the hardest, most arduous project I've ever taken on, but it's very beautiful for a game centered around pain, loss, and collapse. My stories seem to ask, “What if faith is real, but so are our biggest fears?”
Turns out there was nothing to be afraid of.
📻 "There's further to go..."
