About me

My beginning

Born and raised in the backdrop of Colorado's rugged beauty, my younger life was a tapestry of learning and challenges. First, my family moved from the normal, inner-city life of Thornton, to the challenging, rugged farm life in Parker at the age of 10. With that period of my life carrying its own struggles, little did I know these early challenges were just a prelude to a life-changing event at 21.

My name is Jeramiah Jakubowski, and this is my story and the crucible that forged Don't Surrender To Pain.

Jeramiah at a young age with his family

A fateful February night

My journey to this moment, where I share my story, can be traced back to a life defining night in Aurora Colorado. Walking to my apartment, In the freezing grip of February, I faced an ordeal that defied odds: a direct gunshot wound to the head. As I was walking, I was jumped by two armed assailants. During this altercation, a gun was put to the back of my head and, in a reflexive turn, the gunshot rang out, marking a before and after in my life.

I miraculously awoke from the incident not knowing what happened. I knew I had been injured, that much was obvious, but not by what, or how severe. The assailants had left me for dead and were nowhere to be seen. After struggling to get myself up, and having lost massive amounts of blood, I desperately climbed 3 flights of stairs to my apartment where my roommate called the ambulance. After getting to the hospital, the real fight for my life began.

Reenactment of the night Jeramiah was shot

The aftermath

Doctors said it was a miracle I even got up off the ground. But with some skilled surgeons, a ton of luck, willpower and almost 20 hours of surgery, I survived. Even though I may have survived, it came at a hefty cost. Throughout the next year and a half, I would undergo over 10 more surgeries trying to rebuild my jaw. With my body and mind severely damaged, I fought on. Surrender was never an option. If only I had known that as far as this journey was concerned, this was the easy part. Body parts removed and replaced, teeth pulled, mouth wired shut. Skin grafts. Eating through a tube in my stomach. All communication from me for the next three months was either, written or not at all. It was hell. I went from 185lbs to 129lbs due to prolonged bed rest and atrophy. Although I was riddled with physical scars and irreparable damage had been inflicted to my body, with hard work and dedication these wounds would eventually heal, I would grow stronger, and I could live a somewhat normal life all be it with some struggles. However, the PTSD and damage done to my psyche and perception of the world would be altered so greatly, that I would be battling demons for many years to come.


The unseen wounds and the cost of surviving

Riddled with PTSD, body dysmorphia, paranoia, anxiety, depression, and many other mental health issues, I felt completely alone. My family was not built to handle someone as damaged as I was, and most mental health support was not either. My case of survival was so rare, the doctors said, that finding people with common ground or support groups for people like me was almost nonexistent. So, as many do with PTSD, I turned to another outlet. Drugs and alcohol. This was my escape. This demon would run my life for the next 8 long years.

For the next almost decade, my goal was clear. Escape. Trying not to think or feel anything I was struggling with or trying to overcome. Numb was the name of the game and I was quite good at it. In this pursuit of escape, I would destroy job opportunities, relationships, and my health. I was branded as the “drunk” by my peers, friends, and family. As my connections with my loved ones began to drift away, I would spiral and become more reckless. I would end up going to jail a few times, rehab as well. Nothing violent or dangerous, mostly just public intoxication. My last encounter with the police would end with a DUI. This was the event that would alter the trajectory of the rest of my life.


My rebirth

After a bit of time in jail due to the DUI, an epiphany came. With everything I had struggled through to stay alive, was this how I was going to use my second chance in life? I had finally had enough. No more trying to escape the demons. Now we fight. August 26th, 2017 was the day I started the chapter of my life known as sobriety. And as of writing this, it has been going 6 years strong. Focusing on my mental and physical health, I found the gym and stoicism, two of the foundations of my current success in life. That date would not mark just the start of my sobriety but the beginning of a profound transformation. Through the discipline of the gym and wisdom of stoicism I rebuilt myself both mentally and physically. It was in this journey of self-recovery; I realized something crucial. I was not alone in this fight, and neither should anyone else be. This realization ignited a mission within me.


The birth of Don't Surrender To Pain

From that spark, Don't Surrender To Pain was born: a mission, a community, a platform dedicated to those who are fighting their own battles. I'm here to say, together we will face our struggles and together we will triumph. My journey and my battles have all led to this moment, to Don't Surrender To Pain. This is more than just a company, it is a lifeline, it is a beacon of hope. This is just the beginning, and our mission is clear: to empower, heal and support. Don't Surrender to Pain transcends my personal ethos as a beacon of hope and strength for all of us united in our pursuit to overcome and thrive. I truly believe that in strength and wisdom we overcome.