Growing up, my parents made one thing very clear: you work.
It didn’t matter if it was a big job or a small one, a dream job or just something to pay the bills—what mattered was showing up, doing your best, and not quitting when it got hard. That work ethic was drilled into me from a young age. If I wanted something, I had to earn it. If I made a mess, I had to clean it. If I was given an opportunity, I was expected to respect it by giving real effort.
At the time, I didn’t realize how much all of that would shape who I am today—not just as an employee, but as a man fighting through mental health battles, addiction, and recovery.
My Parents and the “Always Have a Job” Rule
My mom, dad, and stepdad never sugar-coated life. They knew bills don’t pay themselves, life doesn’t pause when you’re tired, and that responsibility is something you carry whether you feel like it or not.
They weren’t perfect, and neither am I, but they modeled consistency. They got up, went to work, took care of what needed done. Even when things were tight or stressful, they didn’t just sit around and complain—they pushed forward.
From them, I learned:
- You don’t have to like every job, but you respect it.
- Showing up on time is just basic respect—for yourself and others.
- Quitting on everything only makes life harder, not easier.
That constant push to “always have a job” felt strict at times, but now I see it as love. They weren’t trying to control me; they were trying to prepare me.
How Working Helps My Mental Health
I live with PTSD, depression, ADHD, and I’m in recovery from alcoholism. I know what it’s like to feel stuck in your own head, weighed down by guilt, regret, and overthinking. On my worst days, my brain can be a rough neighborhood to walk around in alone.
That’s where work has become more than just a paycheck for me. It’s structure. It’s purpose. It’s a reason to get out of bed, get dressed, and step into the world.
Work helps my mental health because:
- It gives me routine. When my day has structure, my mind has less room to spiral.
- It gives me purpose. Knowing people are counting on me gives me a reason to push through the fog.
- It builds confidence. When I finish a task, clean a room, or help someone, I feel useful instead of worthless.
- It distracts me from negative thoughts. Instead of sitting at home overthinking everything I’ve ever done wrong, I’m focused on what’s in front of me.
Is it a magic cure? No. I still have bad days. I still need therapy, meds, prayer, meetings, and support. But having a job fits into that bigger picture of staying grounded and moving forward. It’s one more tool in my recovery toolbox.
Why I Love Working With My Stepfather
One of the biggest blessings in my life right now is getting to work with my stepdad. Not everybody gets that chance. Some people drift away from their parents as they get older, but I get to see mine in a different way now—as a man working beside another man.
Working with my stepdad means:
- I get to see his work ethic up close—the same one he tried to instill in me.
- We share small day-to-day moments that a lot of families don’t get.
- There’s a sense of pride in knowing we’re on the same team, doing something side by side.
It’s not just about the tasks we do. It’s about the conversations in between, the jokes, the small lessons, the unspoken “I’m proud of you” moments. After everything I’ve put myself through over the years—the addiction, the mental health struggles, the times I felt like I had let everyone down—being able to stand next to him at work feels like redemption in motion.
We’re not just family at home; we’re teammates on the job. And that means a lot to me.
Work as a Part of Healing
For me, healing hasn’t come from just talking about change—it’s come from living it, day by day.
Work is part of that:
- It keeps me accountable.
- It reminds me that I have something to offer.
- It connects me to other people instead of isolating me.
My parents planted the seeds when they taught me to always work, always show up, always try. Today, those lessons don’t just help me pay rent—they help me stay sober, stay focused, and stay alive.
I’m grateful they pushed me. I’m grateful I get to work with my stepdad. And I’m grateful that, even after everything, I can still say I’m showing up.
One day at a time. One shift at a time. One step at a time.
– Josh Bridges
YOU {R} NOT ALONE YOU HAVE A VOICE! 