I never thought I would be sitting down to write about my demons. Hell, I never even acknowledged their existence until recently. But here I am, penning down the untold story of Javier Peña.
Growing up in a tough neighborhood, you learn to put on a tough exterior. You don't show weakness, you don't let anyone see the cracks in your armor. That's how I lived my life for years - burying everything deep inside and putting on a facade of strength.
But as any good DEA agent knows, secrets have a way of resurfacing when you least expect them to. It started with the nightmares - images from past missions haunting me every time I closed my eyes. The faces of those we lost flashing before me like ghosts demanding justice.
I tried to drown out the memories with alcohol and meaningless flings, but they only offered temporary relief. The weight of guilt and regret was always there, lurking in the shadows waiting for me to confront it head-on.
And so here I am now, facing my demons with nothing but pen and paper as witnesses. Admitting that maybe - just maybe - being strong doesn't mean ignoring your pain or pretending it doesn't exist.
It means facing it head-on and finding a way to live with it without letting it consume you whole. So here's to confronting our demons, no matter how daunting they may seem. Javier Peña signing off...