The Fight

Justice lived like a rockstar—with a fire that burned fast and a heart that felt everything. He was a moon in the midnight sky, shining brightest when things were at their darkest. At thirteen, a deep childhood heartbreak triggered a battle with depression that would last a decade.

Justice was a warrior in the truest sense—not because he lived without fear, but because he rose every single day to face a battle that most people could never see.

His strength was defined by his persistence:

• A Ten-Year Campaign: He didn't just fight a single battle; he fought a decade-long war. He navigated the overwhelming transition from childhood innocence to a world of clinical probes and heavy questions, yet he kept showing up for himself and for us.
• Choosing the Tools of Peace: Being a warrior meant doing the hard, "talk-therapy" work of unlearning distorted thoughts. He took the "eyeglasses" the doctors gave him and worked tirelessly to adjust his vision, reclaiming his clarity and optimism one day at a time.
• The Quiet Courage: His bravery was found in the "short-term clinical treatment," the homeschooling months, and the moment he decided to walk back into a new school with hope. He faced his darkest days with a revitalized precision, refusing to let the negative symptoms win without a fight.

He was a warrior who chose empathy over bitterness and persistence over surrender. We don’t remember him for the battle he lost; we remember him for the thousand battles he won along the way.

But the war against depression is relentless. Despite years of precision and strength, the battles continued. To Justice, we say: we are so proud of your fight, your music, and the beautiful human being you were. We wish we could have stood in the gap for you in that last moment, but we will honor your legacy every day.