MS Fighter

There’s this image burned into our heads—The lone wolf. The man who handles his pain in silence. Who carries the weight of the world without flinching. Who never asks for help because that’s not “what real men do”. Yeah…that image? It’s bullshit. When you’re living with MS—or any serious challenge—that lone wolf mentality will eat you alive. It’ll break you down in silence, one stubborn day at a time. You used to believe that you had to do it all on your own. Be the rock. Be the provider. Be the fighter who never flinched. But here’s what MSs taught you—in the gym, at home, in the darkest moments: You can’t be the strongest version of yourself if you’re too proud to lean on others. Strength isn’t about pretending you don’t need help. It’s about knowing when you do—and having the guts to ask for it. Whether it’s letting your partner tag in while you’re running on fumes, talking to your coach when your workouts need tweaking, or reaching out to a friend when your mental game starts to slip—these aren’t sign of weakness. They’re signs you playing to win. If you’re reading this thinking you’ve got to carry all of it alone—That’s not strength. That’s ego. This post is for the fighters who are still trying to carry the full load solo. This post is for me, also… because I’m carrying the whole world on my shoulders without asking for help. I should stop it already…

Why Asking for Help Is Not Weakness.

Real power comes from knowing your limits—and building beyond them.

We live in a world where “asking for help” is often twisted into something shameful—especially for men. It gets branded as weakness. As failure. As if the second you open your mouth and say, “I’m struggling”, you’ve somehow lost your edge. But here’s what you should’ve learn already—through MS, through training, through fatherhood…That mindset isn’t strength. It’s a slow suicide. MS doesn’t care how tough you are. It will test every part of you—physically, mentally, emotionally. And if you keep trying to out-grit it alone, it’ll drain you dry. But the second you stop pretending to have all the answers, something changes. You open yourself to new tools, new strategies, new energy. 

You might have days when just telling your partner, “I’m not okay today”, took more strength than deadlifting three plates. You might have training sessions where you had to look your coach in the eye and say, ”My nervous system’s friend, I need to scale back”. And every single time you’ve asked for help, it’s been a decision rooted in control, not collapse. Because asking for help doesn’t mean you’re quitting. It means you’re playing a longer game. You’re choosing sustainability over self-destruction. You’re choosing wisdom over ego. You’re choosing to be a fighter, not just a flailer. The strongest people I know—fighters, veterans, coaches, even high performers with MS—they all have one thing in common: They don’t do it alone. They build their corner. They lean on their team. They fight smarter, not just harder. So if you’re white-knuckling your way through life, thinking it’s noble to suffer in silence—ask yourself this:

What’s actually tougher? Dragging yourself through every dan on fumes? Or reaching out, adapting, and rising with support?

Although I know the answer, I don’t follow it. Don’t be like me. Strength isn’t about how long you can take the hits alone. It’s about knowing when to tag someone in—so you can come back stronger.

Types of Support That Matter.

Build your corner like your life depends on it—because it dies. If you’re living with MS, you’re in a fight every damn day. Some battles are obvious—like getting through a workout or pushing through fatigue. Others are quitter, like holding it together at work, showing up for your family, or not letting your mind spiral when your body starts acting up. You can hardly win those fights without a team. And not just any team—the right one. The team might differ for people, but generally, it can be divided as following.

1. Family. The inner circle.

For some, your partner is the anchor. Partner sees the good, the ugly, and everything in between. The partner is the one who picks up the slack on your worst days and celebrates the hell out of your best ones. And it’s not just about physical help—it’s the emotional load partner shares that you didn’t even realize you was carrying.

Your kids? They are a reason to keep fighting. They’re fuel. They keep you grounded and remind you why you show up even when it hurts. Family doesn’t need to “fix you”. They just need to see you. To walk with you through it. That’s more than enough.

• Brotherhood. Friends who get it.

Not everyone has to have MS to understand your fight. But you damn sure need people around you who don’t flinch when you’re honest. You need a couple of close friends who know when you go silent for too long, something’s off. They check in. They shoot straight. They’ve learned the right to speak into your life because they’ve stayed in it—not just when things were easy. This isn’t about having a hundred buddies. It’s about a handful of solid people who you’d go to war with—and who’d do the same for you.

• Coaches, trainers, and healthcare pros. Your tactical support.

Trying to train hard with MS without guidance? That’s like going into the ring blindfolded (this is valid for beginners). Your coach doesn’t just write your program—he should help you adapt it. When your central nervous system is fried, when your fatigue spikes, when pain flares up—you adjust without throwing in the towel. And when it comes to neurologists, therapists, or physical therapists—find the ones who listen, not just talk. You’re not a case study. You’re a fighter. Surround yourself with professionals who treat you like one.

• The online community. Fighters worldwide.

This one might surprised you the most. But sharing your story online will connect you with people across the globe who are battling just like you are. They get it. They’re not shocked by symptoms, they’re not awkward about talking MS? And they’re not there for pity. They’re there to fight alongside you—and you’re here to do the same. This community reminds you that you’re not in this alone.

The bottom line is that you have to build a team like your life and mindset depends on it—because they do. Don’t wait until you’re burned out or broken. Lean in now. Every fighter needs a corner.

Knowing When You Need Support.

Even fighters need a corner man—drop the ego down for a second. This post isn’t about weakness, it’s about wisdom. Real strength isn’t gritting your teeth until you break. It’s knowing when to pause, breathe, and bring in your team before you’re staring down the edge. In the gym, you don’t max out every day. You cycle. You recover. You adapt. So why should life be any different? With MS, things shift fast. One day you’re firing on all cylinders. The next, your body’s moving like it’s underwater and your brain’s full of static. You can’t simply out-tough a nervous system that’s misfiring. The mistake? Believing that support equals surrender—it doesn’t. It means you’re smart enough to live to fight another day. Here’s what knowing you need support really looks like

You stop enjoying what you love

Training starts to feel like a chore. Your patience with your family thins out. Even your downtime feels heavy. That’s a sign. Not of laziness—but of overload. Support here doesn’t mean checking out. It means adjusting—scaling back intelligently. Maybe you bring your coach in to modify your split. Maybe your partner steps in with more household responsibilities. This isn’t giving up—it’s strategic recovery. It’s what pros do.

You’re overwhelmed but silent

There’s a war inside your head, not no one knows it. You’ve convinced everyone you’re handling it. Meanwhile, your sleep is wrecked, your fuse is short, and your motivation= s in the gutter. It doesn’t make you weak to say, “I’m struggling.”. It makes you a damn leader—especially of people look up to you. Because now you’re modeling how to endure with honesty—not just bravado.

You’ve lost your edge

You’re still showing up, but something’s missing. Your intensity. Your clarity. That sense of fight. Maybe it’s depression sneaking in. Maybe it’s burnout. Maybe your nervous system is screaming for rest. This is where having someone—anyone—you trust matters. A friend, A therapist. A coach. A brother in the same fight. Someone who sees when you’re slipping—and calls you on it.Keep in mind that support doesn’t mean saving you—it means backing you up. Let’s be real—no one’s coming to save you. You’re still the one in the ring. But the right support gives you a cutman, a strategist, a reason to get back up between rounds. It’s the friend who says, “Take the rest day.”. It’s the wife who says, “You don’t have to explain—I’ve got your back.”. It’s the guy online who says, “Me too.”, and suddenly you don’t feel like a freak for hurting. You don’t need to wait until you’re bleeding out to ask for help. You don’t need a crisis to earn support. You just need to own the fact that fighting smart is stronger than fighting solo. And if that feels foreign, if that bruises your pride a little—good. Growth hurts before it heals. MS fighters don’t stand alone. They stand together.

Real Strength Isn’t Solo.

This blog isn’t just about surviving with MS. It’s about fighting back—with grit, with strategy, and with soul. And if you’ve made it this far, then you already know that strength isn’t just about how much you lift. It’s about how much you carry—and who you let carry some of it with you. Too many guys suffer in silence because they were told that needing support is weakness. But I call bullshit on that (although I am exactly the guy that suffers in silence). If you’re dealing with MS, chronic fatigue, stress, pain, and still trying to show up as a father, a partner, a provider, a fighter—then asking for help isn’t weakness. It’s part of your damn training plan. You’re not here to be fragile. You’re here to become unbreakable—through every hit, every flare-up, every setback. And sometimes, becoming unbreakable means knowing exactly when to lean on your people, take the break, shift the load, and come back stronger.

So here’s your mission:

• Start a conversation.
• Ask for support before the spiral.
• Build your corner crew—your real ones.
• Return the favor when it’s their round in the ring.

Leave the lone wolf mindset for the movies. Real fighters build teams. Drop a comment below—How do you know when it’s time to ask for support? What’s helped you? What’s holding you back? This is your space, your tribe. Speak.