Disclaimer: Yes, this is going to sound like an epic pity party at times. But hang tight—I promise it ends on an upswing.
The Early Big Shot
Fresh out of high school (ahead of schedule, because clearly, I was destined for greatness), I got a real estate broker’s license before even attending my graduation. I strutted around like I was about to dominate the market. Spoiler: No one trusted an 18-year-old kid with their life savings. Shocker, right?
Debt piled up faster than my shattered dreams, so I traded my shiny suit for Navy blues.
Navy Life: College, but Make It Miserable
They promised it would be just like college, only richer. What they conveniently left out was the mental torment, the mind-numbing 120-hour workweeks, and the radioactive closet of dark secrets I’d spend years trapped in. Fun.
“Look left, look right—someone won’t survive this.” Great pep talk. Somehow, I scraped through nuclear school, only to get shipped off to Japan (not my first choice, or even my tenth). Yet, in a rare twist, Japan turned out awesome—go figure.
Then came five straight deployments totaling 43 months at sea. Highlight reel: anxiety attacks, chewing enough tobacco to sponsor a NASCAR event, and surviving the bipolar boss from hell, aptly named “Bipolister.” He handed me $100 for enduring his existence—still didn’t feel like a fair trade.
Freedom, But Make It Worse
Escaping the Navy felt like reaching the promised land—until I found out a nuclear engineering certification meant jack shit in the civilian world. I took a miserable shipyard job at a massive pay cut, lost health benefits, and quickly discovered contractor life was worse than Navy life (minus the occasional sea breeze).
I was spiraling fast: overweight, balding, and powered exclusively by caffeine and dip. But hey, no panic attacks—silver lining, anyone?
Alaska: The Coldest, Darkest “Fresh Start”
My wife suggested Alaska because nurses got paid well. I didn’t even pretend to deliberate—escape was escape. Cue an 11-day odyssey cross-country, Star-Lord’s mixtape on repeat, landing in Alaska jobless, homeless, and clueless.
Getting off SSRIs abruptly sent me to the ER with suicidal thoughts, landing me in an extended-stay purgatory. Just when things couldn’t get worse, our home sale fell through, leaving us $20k underwater. Family loans added just the right amount of humiliation.
The Almost-Education
I enrolled at Alaska Pacific University—three years of marketing, business, and geology (still don’t understand why). Dropped out repeatedly, self-medicated nightly, and launched a web-dev business while stoned. Pro tip: weed and productivity rarely mix.
Flywheel and the Happy Accident
Landing at Flywheel as a “Happiness Engineer” finally gave me purpose (and friends who didn’t make me want to quit life). I learned web dev for real, proudly showcasing my beginner’s blog, DrewLearns.com—embarrassingly empty but gloriously mine.
Leaving Flywheel for better pay was the hardest goodbye. Goal for this year: cry again. Maybe a 100-day crying challenge?
The Great Misfire(s)
At Ally Bank, earning serious cash didn’t buy happiness (big shock). Still depressed and convinced medication was my life sentence, I threw myself into side hustles. Three simultaneous jobs later, my financial dreams spectacularly imploded when a $45,000 house deposit vanished faster than crypto investments.
We eventually landed in an oversized, stunning house in Hillsborough, NC, thanks to resilience (and dumb luck). Started a Pokémon business, discovered a love for Japanese, and slowly clawed my way out of depression.
The Turning Point (Finally!)
I did a podcast called “No degree podcast” where I was asked how I learned and how I was in school and it was suggested that I might be ADHD. I dismissed it. Over the years, SSRIs got me to a hefty 290 lbs—but didn’t solve my core issue. Ironically, what really helped wasn’t pharmaceuticals—it was deciding not to play victim anymore. Turns out, untreated ADHD might’ve fueled my anxiety and depression all along. Who knew?
Plot Twist: Happy Ending Incoming
Today, I’m lighter (in spirit, if not fully in body yet), smarter, and finally excited about where I’m headed. Life kicked me repeatedly, but turns out, I’m pretty good at getting back up. If you’re reading this from your own pit of despair, remember: even the worst chapters end eventually.
Here’s to never going back and embracing whatever chaos comes next. Cheers.
Drew Karriker is a self-proclaimed professional tinkerer, self-experimentation enthusiast, and lifelong learner with an inability to sit still. A former nuclear engineer turned DevOps architect, he’s built a career (and a life) out of breaking things, fixing them, and then making them better.
Despite wrestling with ADHD, anxiety, and an unrelenting need to optimize everything, he transformed his career and life in just a few years—not because he’s special, but because he figured out how to turn obsession into execution. Now, he’s doing it again—publicly—one 100-day challenge at a time.
His past projects? Some were successes. Some flopped spectacularly. Each one left him a little wiser (and probably a little more caffeinated). Now, he’s on a mission to document his transformation—mind, body, career, and everything in between—so that others might pick up a thing or two along the way. Or at the very least, be entertained by the chaos.
Follow along at RewiredWithDrew.com and get inspired, get motivated, or just grab some popcorn and enjoy the ride.
Early access to challenge results & key takeaways