When You Lose It All—and The World Thinks You're Dead in Mexico and Then Canada—Who Has Your Back?
Life has a way of stripping you bare, doesn't it? One moment, you're building empires, chasing dreams, and curating a digital legacy that feels unbreakable. The next, it's all ash. In 2024, I lost everything. Years of relentless hustle evaporated in an instant: social media accounts locked forever, childhood email addresses wiped clean, thousands of contacts scattered to the wind, books I'd poured my soul into—millions of words—gone. And don't get me started on the 80,000 photos and videos; memories of adventures, loved ones, and triumphs reduced to digital dust.
It wasn't just a bad year; it was a freefall into oblivion. Five arrests, two stints in psych wards, eight months of homelessness on the unforgiving streets of Toronto and Belleville. The world moved on, assuming the worst. Rumors swirled that I'd met my end in Mexico—lost to the shadows of mental health battles, or worse. Family and friends grieved a ghost. But here's the raw truth: rock bottom isn't the end. It's a brutal teacher, a forge that reveals who truly stands by you when the facade crumbles.
Emerging from that abyss wasn't a solo act. It was a mosaic of kindness, tough love, and unexpected grace from people who refused to let me fade. Today, as I rebuild—one brick, one breath at a time—I want to shine a light on them. This isn't just a thank-you list; it's a testament to the human connections that pull us from the brink. In a world obsessed with success stories, let's honor the unsung heroes of survival.
Family: The Unbreakable Foundation
They say blood is thicker than water, but in my case, it's been the life raft in a storm.
My Mother: She spent thousands scouring for any sign of me, enduring sleepless nights of worry that no parent should face. Your relentless search kept hope alive when mine flickered out.
My Dad: Steady as ever, your quiet strength was the anchor I didn't know I needed.
Kris (My Sister): That jacket and those boots you gifted? They shielded me from Toronto's biting cold, a tangible reminder that I wasn't alone on those frozen streets.
Kels (My Baby Sister): You got married not knowing if I was even alive—I'm so sorry for the shadow that cast. Now, seven months pregnant, your calls during my winter walks home from the gym were lifelines of normalcy and love.
Mimi (My Grandmother): Funding parts of my rebuild with unwavering generosity—your belief in second (or tenth) chances humbles me.
Uncle John: Your love defies our differences in views; it's a mystery I cherish deeply.
Auntie Lesley (My Godmother): From England, your FaceTimes and words of encouragement bridged oceans and despair.
Colleen Moore (My Aunt): Hundreds of hours researching how to reestablish my life in Canada after losing all documentation—you turned bureaucracy into a battle you fought for me.
Pat Bono: My fairy godmother who mailed me a MacBook, reigniting my ability to create and connect.
Tommy Schold: You might take the crown for biggest impact—those daily calls and 100-push-up challenges rebuilt my discipline and spirit, one rep at a time.
Nick Jackson: Fifteen years of brotherhood, and your weekly calls (even when I dodged them) prove time doesn't erode true loyalty.
Mentors and Spiritual Guides: Lighting the Path
In the fog of crisis, these souls reminded me that healing isn't linear—it's a shared journey.
James Ayotte: My spiritual mentor since I was 18, your weekly calls, love, and support have been constants through the chaos.
Gregory: One of my key spiritual mentors over the past decade—your wisdom cut through the noise.
Sonja: Our weekly meditations have been sanctuaries of peace amid the storm.
Spiritual Mastermind Crew (Stina, David, and Laura): After six months of silence, jumping back on calls with you felt like coming home.
Marlena: As a priestess visiting from Europe twice in Toronto, your presence was divine intervention.
Nick Morgan: Coaching calls that sharpened my edge as I restart.
Brian Hilliard: My brother in every sense—calls and connections that ground me.
Friends and Allies: The Everyday Heroes
From texts to tangible aid, these connections turned isolation into community.
Cameron Herold: Your Instagram check-ins on my fresh no follower account meant more than words can say—they were beacons in the digital void.
Raj: A laptop, meals, adventures, and that fancy backpack—you didn't just help; you invested in my comeback.
Anthony Crissie: Sending Lululemon gear to the shelter? It made me feel "normal" again, a small luxury in a sea of struggle.
Adam Toren: The first text when I resurfaced—your prompt response was a warm welcome back to the world.
Rudy Montijo: Quick to reach out as I emerged from the depths; your timing was impeccable.
Mark Wenzel: There at my original rehab at 20, and now delivering tough news about Lyle, the man who saved my life from mental health and addiction battles. Your presence spans decades.
Isa.Belle: The German who spotted me in a manic episode on Toronto streets—your compassion in that moment lingers.
Sarah: My Belleville muse, with daily interactions, IG reels, and teasing that brought lightness to heavy days.
Stephanie: Checking in and FaceTiming when you knew I was suicidal—your vigilance saved more than you know.
Morgan: Dragging me to showers and steering me from garbage cans to real meals—practical heroism at its finest.
Marko: My toothless friend who would stand next to me from 3-5 as we froze our asses off and try to get free chicken from Popeyes every night for months living at Union Station during the dark of winter.
Richard: Video calls and encouragement that kept the momentum going.
Harold McNeil: Your check-ins were steady reminders of care.
Jim Plouffe: FaceTimes laced with hard love—exactly what I needed.
Joe Rensin: For the goats (you know what I mean)—humor in hardship.
Maura: Abs inspiration that motivated me physically and mentally.
Simmons: Offering money and support without hesitation.
Rainbow Tim: Depression support and encouragement that colored my grayscale days.
Glenn: Laughs and messages that lifted the weight.
Kristina: The funds and love when I was stranded and freezing in Toronto—pure warmth.
Ben: That tent during my mandatory 7-day shelter evictions every 30 days for six months? It was shelter in the truest sense.
Pace Morby: The funds when I was stranded in Mexico—your help was a lifeline.
John Rampton: Buying me out of cartel trouble—bold moves that echo gratitude.
Tom: AI calls and opportunities that spark new beginnings.
Molly: Inspiration and community that fuel my fire.
Adam Weitsman: Messages and responses that kept the dialogue open.
Olenka Cullinan: The opportunity to sell and rebuild financially.
Inspirations and Distractions: Fuel for the Rebuild
Sometimes, support comes from afar—through words, ideas, and stories.
Derek Sivers: Your blog recommendations and inspiration have been guiding lights.
Chase Jarvis: Messages that motivated and connected.
Michael Lewis: The books I devoured during downtime—profound escapes and lessons.
Podcasts like My First Million, All In, and Diary of a CEO: Distractions turned insights, perfect for biz restarts on the go.
Community and Institutions: The Safety Nets
No man is an island, especially when the tide rises.
Grace Inn Shelter and Staff: A haven when I had none.
The Hub and Staff: Food and support that sustained body and soul.
Salvation Army Dinner Food Truck: Meals that meant survival.
Starbucks: Cheap WiFi that kept me connected.
Tim Hortons: Affordable donuts for quick energy.
Ontario Works: That $350 a month was a bridge to stability.
Enrichment Center: Securing my new apartment this week—fresh starts begin here.
And to everyone I've forgotten—even if it was just a smile on the street as I wandered, or a listening ear—your ripples matter.
Reflections from the Other Side
Losing it all taught me this: vulnerability isn't weakness; it's the gateway to authentic bonds. When the world wrote me off as dead in Mexico, these people didn't. They bet on my resurrection. If you're reading this in your own dark chapter, know that help often hides in plain sight—reach out, accept it, and pay it forward.
Who has your back? Take a moment to name them. Gratitude isn't just healing; it's revolutionary.
What's your story of loss and loyalty? Share in the comments—let's build a community of resilience.
Gordon is an entrepreneur, author, and survivor rebuilding from the ground up. Follow his journey on IG @GordonBufton33 or subscribe for more raw insights.
Connect... Gordon GordonBufton@Proton.me