My brother passed away in 2020. He was a type 1 diabetic who, in his early 20s, also developed severe mental disorders—eventually being diagnosed with stage 4 bipolar disorder. The years leading up to his death were traumatic. Our home became a constant emotional battleground. We lived on edge, never knowing when the next manic episode would come. But even in the chaos, there were still good moments. That unpredictability made everything harder.

My brother 3 days before his passing

His sudden passing devastated our family. But it wasn’t just his death—it was everything leading up to it. The fear, the helplessness, the emotional exhaustion.

A year after he passed away, the first thought of the Tuning Notebook came to me.

First thoughts of the Tuning Notebook

This idea became my first prototype.

First prototype created for testing

More than three years later, the Tuning Notebook was finally complete and going into production. Around that same time, my dad found something I had never seen before— a piece of paper my brother had written on, dated 7/27/2014, well before his mental crisis.

I never knew my brother to be into journaling. And maybe he wasn’t. But that note felt like an attempt. A small act of self-reflection. A desire, as he said, “to track my progress as I grow and develop.” And not just a one time entry, as he said, "I suppose it would be interesting to see as long as I keep up with an entry for every living day."

Not only this, but in this natural reflection my brother wrote—There is a constant sense of struggle, but also a shift. I think the most important parts of the note are the beginning and end. It starts with "Reality sucks." and ends with, "Reality doesn't suck, it's just a confusing labyrinth that's impossible to solve."

His entire perspective changed in the span of a single entry without any external help, just himself, his thoughts, a piece of paper, and a pen that isn't even good.

I can’t help but wonder—what if the Tuning Notebook had existed then? What if he had something to return to each day? A tool to help him learn from his mistakes, understand himself better, and find his way before things got worse?

I’ll never know. But that question fuels me.

I don’t have the opportunity to save my brother now.
But maybe I can help save someone else’s.
Someone’s brother, sister, friend, parent, or partner.
Not when they’re already falling apart—
but before they have a chance to.
Before they even know they need the help.
Like when my brother wrote that note.

That’s what the Tuning Notebook is built to do.

It’s not just a planner. It’s a tool created for the people, by the people.

I was a college dropout when my brother died. Now I’m a full-time firefighter and a self-made entrepreneur. The Tuning Notebook did that for me.

I’m optimistic about what it will do for you—and the people you care about.

Jon Jon

02/05/1997 - 06/22/2020