I looked in the mirror today
Dec 2024
Tears are steadily running down my cheeks. It is Christmas, a day I have been dreading.
Yesterday, my Grandmother passed away. Very suddenly. Just two days ago she was here; this whole month it felt like she was doing pretty well and then, out of the blue, I get a call from my mother saying the ambulance is coming. No warning really; her health just failed all at once.
I was at work when I get a text from her. “You have been a wonderful Grandson, I am leaving you and your mother all my cookbooks. Come down soon to get them. I love you.” That was it. She texted while heading into the ambulance and I didn’t see it until a couple hours later. I broke down behind the bar and had to go home early. This was the day before Christmas Eve. My mother called me early in the morning, no earlier than 4 a.m., telling me she had passed quietly and easily in her sleep, surrounded by her sons.
I knew the call would be coming and, being too numb and tired to process it, just went back to sleep.
Today is Christmas Day. I am five-hundred miles from any close family; my friends have returned home to be with their people and no one is around today or tonight. Worse, I still have to go into work. This was the kind of circumstances you hear about only in movies, I had never heard of the holidays being quite so depressing, yet here I was.
Crying on Christmas without support and without the woman who played a big part in raising me.
I was fairly drunk the entire day. I woke up with some whiskey. I went to work and had a few. I went to sleep after a lot. There haven’t been many days as bad as this one. I would be heading back to Florida soon to help my family pack up her house so thankfully I wouldn’t be alone for much longer.
But today, as I look at my reflection, it is hard to see behind all the tears.
I looked in the mirror today.
Jan 2025
In the small hotel glass pane, I wipe off the steam from the shower that I ran to keep myself warm. The polished white, marble bathroom has a thin layer of condensation tenanting across the slick surface while the exhaust fan roars steadily above.
It is early January. The city of New York sitting encapsulated in a frozen sheath of ice, wind and snow. Blustery gales streak between building blocks, rubbing any exposed skin raw and pulling irrepressible tears from sensitive eye ducts. Below, the East Manhattan streets are somewhat quiet; the tourists have mostly gone home to avoid the brutal climate and so we feel as though the city belongs to us.
After this trip, reality will once again settle upon me as I am going back to school and work; the business and pleasure of the holidays is reaching its eclipse.
After returning home a few days after Christmas, I revisited my Grandma’s house and was allowed to view it one last time before it would likely be sold. I stayed in Florida for a week before my family and I embarked on a short cruise down to some areas in the Bahamas. We all agreed we needed to get away for a while and their solution was to disconnect on a boat; I couldn’t argue the logic.
It was actually quite a nice time, I felt sick and worn out after the events of the last few weeks but still managed to enjoy it. My dad seemed to be having some trouble relaxing, seemingly having health problems more than usual and looking extraordinarily tired. My mom was obstinately, deathly worried about both of us. But the cruise passed without incident, I won $500 in the casino and felt gratified; this would be my spending money in NYC. It was really quite relaxing when it came down to it.
We returned home and, after a day or two, I was headed up on my Southwest flight to LaGuardia. Today is the last day of my trip.
In a word, magical. That is how this trip has felt. For the first time in years, I feel returned to new heights, to a feeling of normalcy and fulfillment. Each day presented new wonders and experiences. I had never been to NYC before this but I am keenly aware that, now that I have witnessed it, I could not forget it. I would have to return permanently.
While we are staying solely in Manhattan, we found we had no shortage of things to see and do. I finally was able to patronize the MoMa, a dream of mine for years. We mixed touristy things with off-the-beaten-path experiences in which we just walked around the streets until we found something that caught our eye.
It seemed each street corner was a new world, each block the zenith of wonder and imagination. It was a place in which jazz ran through the streets and romance danced along the sidewalk. The smells from warm, intimate restaurants wafted gently from the buildings to our noses and captivated our attention. We drifted along and along, walking to no end.
Up on the tenth floor of this Marriott, I feel hope. I see myself and I see a light in my eyes that hasn’t been seen burning for quite some time. This is a new year, a chance to reawaken my passions and finally embark upon the next chapter of my life. If I can put everything behind me, I think I have the strength to rebuild from the ground up.
I looked in the mirror today
Feb 2025
It is the second week of the semester; I’m not doing well.
My excitement to return to school turned sour. My one saving grace in this program were the cool, understanding professors who were very hands-off and results driven. This semester, already, it was the opposite. I was back in Freshman year classes it seemed; mandatory attendance, creating LinkedIn profiles, building resumes, group projects and overall a lack of trust in me as an individual and a sense of micromanaging. I am twenty-six. I am considering dropping out and just simply leveraging my current degree into a job in the field instead.
Worse news, yesterday my mom called me. With a shaky voice, she slowly revealed that my father was in the hospital. He collapsed in the bathroom one night after trying to take the trash to the curb. He was standing normally then suddenly he woke up to find himself lying on cold tile. The doctors were running tests but, at the moment, were unsure of the exact problem. I could sense the colossal weight of worry upon her back and I tried to fly back down to take care of them but she wouldn’t let me.
So here I sit, just returning from MTSU in my car while there my father sits, helpless in a hospital bed, strapped to monitors.
So much for a good start to the year. I just lost my grandmother and now it felt as though the rest of the family were slipping through the cracks.
I looked in the mirror today
Feb 2025
Feb 18 to be exact. A day of extreme highs and lows—they seemed to occur a dime a dozen this year. Let me breathe for once without the other shoe dropping.
In the last month, a lifetime had occurred. My father, in the hospital, was diagnosed with multiple Pulmonary Embolisms and put on blood thinners and other medications to flush the blood clots from his body. One had occurred near his heart, the rest gathered lower in his legs.
He was exceedingly lucky that he made it to the doctor when he did as this is an extraordinarily deadly diagnosis for someone who does not seek help. No surgery was necessary and, after a few days in the hospital, he was released and relegated to bed rest; a sentence he did not particularly enjoy, rather, outright raged against. He refused to sit and heal, he was back in the gym after a couple weeks. That is the man who raised me and I couldn’t help be a little proud, even though what he was doing was incredibly dumb.
I quit school. Without much of a lifeline I might add. I talked to a professor that I had really trusted, one who felt more similar to a mentor than a formal teacher and asked him if he agreed with my idea of dropping out and finding a job anyway. He did. More than that, he offered advice and references for other jobs and made it clear he was looking out for me. I was touched and feel forever thankful to him.
Today, Feb 18, I had an interview with an employer that I had met while bartending.
I was originally slated to begin an internship with him in the summer, but I laid my story out to him and asked if I might have a permanent spot within his organization, rather than just an internship. I wanted to speed up the timetable and work now in lieu of spending thousands more at school for another Bachelor’s. I would be learning on the job anyway, I am more useful if I learn the ropes from personal experiences, I argued.
I was convincing enough and he agreed with my argument. I had secured a job with my first contact in the industry and would be starting at the end of the month. I would still bartend on weekends but the weeks would be spent working in commercial construction.
Today, Feb 18, I got a surprise call from my mother late at night.
Originally I let it go to voicemail as I wasn’t able to answer. But she called again. Two consecutive calls are usually reserved for emergencies and I knew this probably was not going to be a fun talk, especially seeing the hour of her calling; it was late, probably around 10:30 or 11 p.m. at least. The night was completely quiet, it had started snowing and a thin layer of white powder dusted the skies and grass. Small, diaphanous flakes blanketed the ambient noise– no sound emanated from the world.
Bracing, I dialed back. My uncle had suddenly passed. In the hospital while simply waiting for a routine surgery. The doctors say it was a heart attack. She relayed all this information calmly and delicately, an unsteady peace surrounded by chaos. In the back of the call, I heard the shower running. With a queer voice, my mother said that my father had been in the shower since getting the call himself and refused to come out. It was the greatest shock to all of us. Two members of the Dreher’s gone barely two months from each other. Who could predict such a thing. The small family was a bit smaller.
Thick flakes slowly transposed atop the thin ones and sat whispering on the window’s ledge. I opened the door and stepped outside. Within the confines of a streetlamp, I let the steady snowfall cover me and color me with a pure white.
I looked in the mirror today
April 2025
It is 5:30 a.m. What am I doing up? Oh yeah, working construction. What do I do all day? Collect panic attacks.
Staring at my reflection in the dark, morning air, I don’t see anything good. In fact, I see only sadness and turmoil. I think my hairline is receding. My skin looks gray. The stubble on my face forms a haggard beard.
Construction has been the opposite of what I hoped. I’ve been in it for a couple months now and it has been a steady downhill trajectory. I was thrust into a position in which I was given no training, help, or guidance. I stepped on a nail yesterday that went right through my boots. I have almost been hit by falling debris more times than I can count. There was a hole in the ground in which I almost broke my ankle, I only noticed it at the last second. And still, my bosses deem it fit not to help in any capacity. I could speak for hours about this job, but I am sick of talking or thinking about it. Read my other blogs for my experience in construction.
Rest assured, this was not my answer. I felt bad for wanting to quit but I felt even worse contemplating staying here any longer. I need to get out while my hair still has its color.
I looked in the mirror today.
June 2025
Summer is just beginning.
I’m back at my bartending job, for now at least. It was a hard transition though, if only due to my ego and pride. I had just led a team of seven workers and we had accomplished quite a bit, looking back. While I hated it, I will acknowledge that I was effective in reaching the goal laid out for me. The contractor groups had liked working with me and gave us extra leeway with certain things, we made a ton of money and the team had said they liked working with me—even if they had said it in Spanish. It was a T&M contract project I was working on and, before leaving, I noticed we had made well over what the management had expected.
In some twisted form, I was proud. I had been well-liked among my crew and had finally earned the respect of upper management due to the money I was making them. I proved to myself, if nothing else, that I had the potential to be an actual leader one day. It was a good feeling to solve problems and I realized that I was capable of more. I could do more. I don’t know how I want to capitalize on this yet but I want the pride to remain. It is the most valuable skill I picked up on site.
However, the environment was not for me.
I was so incredibly unhappy that it became impossible to ignore and I had to step back for my health. It was an amicable sendoff and, now, I find myself back at the place I was bartending before. Except now, I had gone through an unbelievable, permanent transformation over the last few months.
My shoulders pushed back confidently, my demeanor is inherently calm and inscrutable, as if I was still speaking with a hesitant or aggravated supplier. I was returning to an organization in which they had remained the same and even declined in the same span during which I had grown exponentially.
I am proud of the change that occurred in me. I became someone that handles well under pressure and strengthens others leading by example. If I do not fold, it will be easier to uplift those who need more guidance. This is something that no one will ever take away. I felt a self-confidence burning within that had never existed before. Even in the darkest of times, I still feel a resilience of spirit.
Southall did not seem to notice or care about this change. I was granted an imaginary position in which I was given all the responsibility of a certain aspect of the bar program so management wouldn’t feel any need to step in or care. They were able to take credit for my accomplishments and then blame me when things failed. It was a win-win for them and, soon, I felt an ambivalence for this place that I had never felt before.
I had always been treated fairly before but now, it seemed things were different. I was not someone to be simply pushed around anymore and, as a result, I was being pushed out. It had turned corporate and uncaring, a by-the-books new manager taking the place of a beloved, lead-by-example old one. Rather than acknowledge his legacy, the new director did everything in his power to diminish the legacy that had been previously built.
It became like an early season episode of The Walking Dead, personal favorite employees were being fired left and right for trivial offenses. No one was safe.
This was not the outlet I had left only a few months previous. This was an uncaring, indifferent beast who relied on the numbers game; surviving only on profit margin and rearing wildly when reservations were low. The hunger became insatiable, profits weren’t high enough. Eat more. Fire more. The numbers went higher, it became an addiction. The belly had to be fed, the wills and personalities of employees irrelevant, only earnings mattered. Slow night? The beast attacked, more firings. More lies. More pay cuts. Increase the service charge taken by the house on every ticket. Continue to feed the machine. Push out old workers, they cost too much. Hire those with less experience, they work cheaper. Busy night? Cut anyway, they just get in the way of margins.
I have to find a way out.
I looked in the mirror today.
August 2025
A summer spent and wasted. I can’t recall a single day at work over another. Pride wouldn’t let me accept just any bartending position. I had been a leader, how could I be a simple cog in the wheel again?
I was spoiled by my experiences and knowledge of my potential.
I hated that place more than I hated the idea of being a lowly employee again. While I know I had more potential than just being a bartender, I would have to find another bartending job if I wanted to pay the bills right now. Even if it felt like starting over and being low on the totem poll again, it was worth it to me.
I found a job that I know is probably not for me, but it is a distinguished bar in the Gulch area of Nashville. A bar that has made it to magazines, articles, blogs, awards and “best of all time” lists.
That seemed fair to me; at least I would grow in my knowledge of something and continue to learn. So I put in my two weeks at Southall today. I will not work the full two weeks, but they don’t know that yet. If they can lie to me, I can lie to them.
After this summer, I feel emotionally stunted and, quite frankly, empty. One day after the other of the same dull routine has thwarted the light that was burning in me in the beginning of summer. I no longer feel excitement; I need something totally different. Every door that opened in my route to Nashville has closed on me and I consider my future life here. My lease ends in January and I don’t think I want to extend—it’s time to reignite my passions that I once had long ago. I want to again enjoy life and the things I do.
I looked in the mirror today
Dec 2025
It is December now. The leaves fell from their posts and collected on the frozen earth, drying and crunching as the brumal night air siphoned away the moisture. Soon thereafter, the mowers and the landscapers arrived for one last scything before the winter. The cold grass clipped, saplings pruned back, and weeds trimmed while the blowers gathered the refuse into large piles, ready for pickup and collection. Large, black trash bags are filled, one at a time, with the remnants of the summer season, the life which once brilliantly shone now being stuffed and packaged, either to be burned or composted. Now, the streets are once again as barren as the trees. Cold wind whistles through the skeletal branches.
And yet, I’m finally happy.
Where I once felt myself ready to leave and begin anew, I’ve now found a home in the country music capital. It’s as though fate were just waiting for me to accept it and let my guard down for once; I feel reborn and the secret lay entirely in one undeniable fact: I surrounded myself with inspirational people.
In my life, I have a history of flocking to comfortable, but rather uneventful and damaged, friendships and relationships. I think because I’ve always been so ill at ease with who I am as a person, it felt affirming to find others who could validate those feelings and commiserate with.
And while that has been nice in many ways as I allowed me to ground myself within a emotion that was not quite happy but not quite sad, I was never being pushed to actually grow as a person. It was a middle ground that felt safer than reaching for better.
Rather, they almost seemed to hold me back mentally. I could be content to acknowledge how sad I was, but that was the extent of the growth allowed with many acquaintances. They wanted me to remain on their level and we could lament together, but only so long as trauma bonding remained the nucleus and gravitational pull between us.
I never felt I had the strength to fix myself or take anything about me seriously, and it’s no wonder; I was with people who didn’t take themselves seriously either. In the last couple months, my life has been one dynamic, world-bending change after another and, along the way, I have had the absolute grace and luck to meet incredible people who choose to remain around me and continue to improve my life.
Along the way, I made a promise to myself that I would never again speak the words “one day”, words which have ruled and dominated over me my entire life. Since having free will as an adult, every big life goal of mine was subjected to a “one day” mentality in which I would get to it one day down the road.
For one reason or another, it seemed to be impossible at the moment but in the future, somehow, it would be completely feasible and easy. It took me until this year to realize that is simply not the fact, but I’m grateful I discovered that so soon. I believe some people go their entire lives before comprehending their lives will not magically improve. Dreams will not suddenly be handed to them when they are ready.
Something I have always wanted to do was get involved in the literary world. This October, I decided to hit the pavement with publishing companies, reaching out to as many local houses as possible to try to vie for their attention and prove that I had some sense of knowledge within this realm, seeing as I’ve been reading and writing since I was two years old.
Finally, I struck gold and have had the incredible opportunity to copyedit actual, real novels soon to be published, and get paid for the work along the way. In the process, I started an LLC. Any work I do will be under its umbrella to build my portfolio and eventually expand into more ambitious territory.
My friend and I talked about starting one for so many years and I decided it was about time to get it going; he’s on board. I am still woefully ignorant to so many things I should probably know when starting a business, but I’m taking it one day at a time and I’m finding that it is one of the most rewarding things I have ever accomplished. I wake up each day excited about new ideas that I could incorporate into my own company and new ways to make money. A friend of mine wants to get involved in it as well to write and publish some cook books of his.
I am finally giving music a bit of a try. For the first time in my guitar-playing career, I’ve begun to take lessons and discover more about a subject of which I am wholly fascinated. My friend and I have begun writing songs together and the writer’s block I’ve faced for the last few months is eclipsed by the creative fever I feel today. I have played impromptu gigs with friends or just by myself since Germany and the internal satisfaction I get from it is unsurpassed by anything on earth, so I figure I might as well explore more of that side of me as well. While I won’t likely be playing on Broadway anytime soon, I do feel as though playing live is in my future.
Another life goal of mine was always to be a volunteer firefighter. I get intense satisfaction and fulfillment from acts of service and, as I get older, I am more concerned with giving back to people rather than remaining a one-man show that just takes and takes. Firefighting seems the perfect way for me to try helping my community. It’s rugged, sexy, dangerous and everyone loves them. I have a meeting with the fire chief of Williamson County tomorrow morning to discuss if this is really for me and I couldn’t be more excited. If I’ve always wanted to do it, why wait? Why would things be any better later?
I’d rather do it right now and stay overwhelmingly busy as too much of my life has been brushed with excessive free time, a quality I once doted and bragged about. But, in the last couple months, I’ve lived life to the fullest and firmly decided being occupied and getting lost in my hobbies, dreams and interests is much more interesting. Both to me, and others. If I’m a little more tired than normal, so be it; but so far, I feel only invigorated. Sadness and indolence is not a cool, deep character trait, but a defense mechanism against processing the shit that happened to you. It is a form of self-assurance in which, if you are meanest to yourself, no one else could possibly ever hurt you again. Unfortunately, it’s duct tape on a car crash. It’s a false sense of security that will make the repairs cost even more down the road. Most of all, sadness is unsustainable.
I have chosen to remain in Nashville for another year. It makes more sense for me to continue to narrow my vision and focus on specific ways to grow, rather than try to move and start over without any resources. My new studio apartment is beautiful and, best of all, my newest tax write-off.
It is such a new feeling: taking myself seriously. Somewhere along the way, I realized maybe I’m good for something after all and carrying myself differently has opened up so many more doors than I ever thought possible. If it’s just a mirage, so be it, I’ll take what I can and continue to learn.
As I look in the mirror today, I am pleased with the reflection.
Drinking less, my cheeks have thinned down a bit. Eating more protein and lifting heavier, I feel genuinely fit for the first time and I’m in the best shape of my life. Sleeping with someone I love, my eyes no longer look like they belong to a caged animal–sharp and jagged. As I look in the mirror, I like who looks back.
After everything this year, all the hardships, the nights I cried to sleep, the loneliness and helplessness I felt, the lack of vision, the anger and betrayal, I think it actually meant something. It was leading me to a conclusion. I’ve been enough all along.
I have the skills to accomplish what I want, and now, I have the clarity and the confidence to see it.
That being said, good riddance 2025. You’ve lasted too long.
Thank you to everyone who has made this year special for me and helped me through some of the worst moments of my life. To those who made it an informative year, I appreciate the lessons.
Chipper Dreher 