RECOVERY, EMOTION, CLARITY, PICTURES, AND TUNES. NO ANESTHESIA. NO BULLSHIT.
-
2025 wasn’t just another year. It was the year I took my life back. I broke patterns that had been running me since childhood, stopped performing, and learned how to trust myself again. This wasn’t survival; it was reclamation. I found real freedom in boundaries, honesty, and showing up as my full self without apology. 2025 closed a lot of doors on purpose, and opened the ones that actually matter. I’m stepping into 2026 clear, grounded, and writing the next chapter on my own terms.
-
Had a lot of fun shooting photos in 2025. Here are some of my favorites. Enjoy!
-
Five days ago, I began a different kind of climb — not up a mountain, but through a medication change that could finally free me from akathisia. Years of medication-induced restlessness pushed my nervous system to the edge and drove me toward substances just to survive daily life. Now, with careful medical support, I’m starting a slower, steadier transition toward relief. It’s early, and I’m cautious, but so far the ground feels solid. This weekend alone at a lookout has given me the quiet space to listen to my body, trust the process, and hope for a future with fewer…
-
Most people don’t wake up thinking about dopamine. I do. For me, it isn’t a trendy neuroscience term — it’s the invisible force behind my focus, my addictions, and my long road to recovery. Living with a chronically low dopamine baseline feels like existing in grayscale while everyone else lives in color. Substances once felt like oxygen, not excess. Through brain scans, genetics, and IFS therapy, I’ve learned my addiction wasn’t a moral failure — it was a nervous system starving for relief. Recovery, for me, isn’t abstinence alone. It’s dopamine repair, self-compassion, and learning safer ways to feel alive.
-
One month ago, I walked away from the IT industry—not impulsively, but out of necessity. What finally broke the spell wasn’t burnout or boredom, but a deeper realization: staying was costing me my emotional and physical health. This is the story of choosing emotional sobriety, radical self-love, and a different path forward—one rooted in recovery, integrity, and freedom. The road ahead is unknown, but it’s no longer the one that was slowly wearing me down.
-
A spontaneous tattoo on Bourbon Street nearly killed me. What started as a tired, impulsive “YOLO” decision during a solo road trip turned into a severe infection and a real brush with sepsis. Years later, that same tattoo has become a daily reminder that time is finite and choices matter. I don’t read “You Only Live Once” as recklessness anymore — I read it as responsibility. One life. One body. One shot to spend my hours on what actually brings meaning, joy, and integrity.
-
Today marks a powerful turning point in my recovery. One year sober from alcohol, 90 days free from kratom, and nearly a full year without cigarettes. Recovery isn’t about perfection, it’s about honesty, intention, and choosing health over numbness. I’m stepping away from substances that no longer serve me, using harm reduction where needed, and committing to clarity, stability, and a life lived fully awake. This is not the end of a struggle, it’s the beginning of a cleaner, truer baseline.
