 My father was the one that taught me how to play guitar. He worked at Aberdeen Proving Grounds for 32 years. He was a rocket scientist. He was actually a rocket scientist. And one of his favorite things to say is, you don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure this out. But if you need one, I'll be upstairs. He unfortunately contracted terminal cancer. When I was in ROTC, he survived for about four years. Until the day after I graduated and commissioned as a lieutenant, I was able to give my bars to him when he was on his deathbed. And that was just a traumatizing experience. For about 14, 15 years of my life, I wasn't addicted to drugs or alcohol. I was addicted to hurting myself, which is a very different addiction, a very different feeling. There was a period in my military career where I realized that I didn't trust myself around firearms. If both of my hands were on this guitar, I physically can't do anything wrong. I physically cannot pick up a knife. I can't pick up a bottle. I can't do anything because my hands are occupied by this instrument, by these six strings and wood. I wanted to be in a team. I wanted to feel wanted. I wanted to feel like an asset. And I think that was my biggest issue, was being a junior officer and not feeling like an asset and feeling like just another placeholder in the unit. What really pushed me to the point of contemplating suicide, of contemplating ending my life, was a series of things that were out of my control. Losing my father was one. Stress and money. Being told that you have to find a civilian career after you've spent the past four years trying to go active duty and be the best soldier you can be. Sometimes it's just overwhelming. It's just incredibly overwhelming. Alcohol, drugs, cutting yourself, whatever your coping mechanism was, it doesn't help. One night before BA, I had a lot of thoughts. It was specifically stressful. And I came forward the next day. And in the morning I told my commander, I have something I need to tell you about. And he could tell by the look in my eyes that I was tired and I hadn't slept in two days. The first thing that came out of my first sergeant's mouth was, are you thinking about killing yourself? And I really reluctantly sat there in that chair. I decided and I said yes, absolutely. And it was from that moment they dropped everything. In order to take me to the ER in that moment, I was so thankful for it. It was after hours. It was after dismissal. And he stayed there for several hours and allowed me to just talk to him openly about the things that I was feeling and my coping mechanisms that were just unhealthy. And he really created this environment for me to feel safe and wanting to go back to drill every weekend just to let him know that I was doing better. And that was one of the best experiences. And that I was essentially not a soldier that I was part of his family. And I think that's what people suffer most from when it comes to depression and suicide. As they feel alone, they don't feel like they're valuable. They don't feel like an asset to the team. I think struggling teaches you empathy and struggling teaches you compassion. And people that have experienced true struggle and are strong enough to share that struggle and put it into practice, those are the people that are going to move other individuals. My recommendation to future leaders, future commanders, NCOs, managers, people in power positions is to create an environment that is compassionate and has empathy and is open. It really brings a unit together. It really brings a family together. It brings any team together when you are real. I literally bring myself to tears when I play songs. You know another one? Anybody know Free Bird?