#12 – Corey McCarthy: Overcoming trauma, finding meaning, changing the self-narrative, & gratitude

At the age of 7, Corey was attacked in a public bathroom at a minor league baseball game, which he describes as stealing his innocence and trust in adults. His parents quickly put him in therapy, recognizing the severity of the event, but Corey struggled with feelings of self-blame and a sense that 'something was wrong with him'.

The trauma at age 7 led Corey to develop an 'adaptive child' persona, marked by avoidance behaviors, a tendency to 'attack before being attacked,' and a narrative that he was inherently 'bad.' This sense of woundedness contributed to his mischievous adolescent behavior, drug use, and an early, harmful introduction to the legal system.

Following a series of distressing events, including heavy pot smoking, a public sexual encounter that left him feeling alone and confused, and an ultimatum from his school principal to tell his parents about it, 13-year-old Corey felt overwhelmed and tried to commit suicide by taking a lethal dose of Tylenol, leading to hospitalization and near-liver failure.

Corey's parents, an attorney and a defense attorney, tried various interventions, including therapy and placing him in a child psychiatric unit. They struggled with how to control his escalating behavior, which included running away and stealing. While his father sought to provide a stable home, his mother considered medication due to concerns about mental illness, reflecting their helplessness.

At 19, Corey sustained severe skull and facial fractures after being attacked at a hockey game, requiring two brain surgeries. This near-death experience, saved by a 'MacGyver' brain surgeon, became a significant turning point in his narrative, later serving as a 'light bulb' moment for gratitude and realizing the value of his life.

After his brain injury, Corey received a settlement, which he used to buy a BMW, a couch, and cocaine, aiming to 'take over Buffalo.' He engaged in drug dealing, robbing other dealers, and ultimately shot a man in the chest due to an ongoing threat, leading to his arrest in December 2003.

Corey's daughter was 3 years old when he went to prison. He called her every Wednesday, and the thought of disappointing her, like when he forgot to call due to drug use, became a powerful catalyst for change. Her eventual acceptance letter to college, and her past statements, deeply influenced his transformation.

Corey's turning point came about four years into his 8.5-year sentence on Father's Day, 11 years ago. A combination of factors, including a cool biker from Queens, a southern kid who relapsed, and two girls who visited him—one of whom he had saved from an overdose and was now successfully selling insurance—convinced him to stop drinking and doing drugs, realizing his life was not getting better.

Corey attended 12-step meetings regularly in prison and continues to do so. He values the core principles of admitting fault, cleaning house, and helping others. While he has mixed emotions about rigid adherence, he appreciates the curriculum, newfound morals, and the tribe of supportive men he found, emphasizing humility and connection.

Corey was terrified before his release. On his first day out, he had an unexpected encounter with his parole officer, who turned out to be Kelly Funderburk, a counselor from his childhood rehab who taught him about hygiene. This familiar, kind face reassured him. He then had breakfast with his mother and picked his 11-year-old daughter up from school for the first time.

Corey continues to practice pull-ups, dips, push-ups, and running regularly, habits he developed in prison. He dedicates time each morning to stretching, yoga, and meditation, and makes a conscious effort to read rather than watch TV. These routines, along with a commitment to helping others and listening, helped him remain grounded and overcome self-doubt.

At Kern, Corey found it hardest to forgive himself for leaving his daughter at age three and for a baby he and his girlfriend lost, which he had previously minimized. These exercises, which involved giving blessings and seeking forgiveness, deeply impacted him, bringing forth previously suppressed emotions and pain.

The Defy Ventures program created a profound experience for both. Corey realized his suffering had a purpose—to help others. Peter Attia described it as a unique gift that money couldn't buy, offering deep empathy and understanding. Both left feeling transformed, recognizing the power of vulnerability and human connection.