​If you had met me before Grandview, you probably wouldn’t recognize the person I am today.

I was homeless. I didn’t have my family around me. I was a hardcore drug addict and alcoholic. For about 15 years I was in and out of recovery rooms, trying to get sober but never really committing to the process. I’d go to recovery houses and programs, but I wasn’t doing the work. I was just there to get the monkey off my back for a little while before going right back out again. 

​Today, my life looks completely different.

Getting Here Wasn’t Simple

If you had met me before Grandview, you probably wouldn’t recognize the person I am today.

I was homeless. I didn’t have my family around me. I was a hardcore drug addict and alcoholic. For about 15 years I was in and out of recovery rooms, trying to get sober but never really committing to the process. I’d go to recovery houses and programs, but I wasn’t doing the work. I was just there to get the monkey off my back for a little while before going right back out again.

Today, my life looks completely different.

I’m a productive member of society. My family is back in my life. I have a wife, responsibilities, and people who count on me. Most importantly, I have a life I actually care about.

But getting here wasn’t simple.

Grandview wasn’t my first attempt at recovery. I went to Grandview once before my current sobriety date. But the first time, I wasn’t serious. I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to be doing. I watched other guys start to heal and get better while I stayed stuck in the same patterns. Eventually, I couldn’t move on to the next stage of the program because I hadn’t done the work. That made me angry, so I left.

Within two weeks I relapsed.

It all happened so quickly. I found some drugs hidden in an old box and it was that easy. Just like that, I was back in the game again. What changed everything was the people around me. Some friends in recovery stepped in and pushed me to call Grandview again.

That second time, something inside me shifted.

I stopped treating recovery like a place to sit on the sidelines. I decided I was going to participate in everything instead of sitting in the background. “I wanted to be a leader, not a follower. I wanted to actually change my life.”
 
Spirituality in Recovery

Early in my second stay at Grandview, something happened that I never expected.

I started praying.

Before that, spirituality had never been part of my life. But during one quiet moment while isolated from everyone else during COVID restrictions, I found myself reaching out for help in a way I never had before.

That moment started a spiritual journey for me.

I’m not here to preach religion, but I will say this: something changed in my heart during that time and for the first time, I felt like I wasn’t doing this alone, I truly wanted recovery.
 
The People Who Believed in Me Before I Believed in Myself

One of the most powerful parts of my time at Grandview was the people who believed in me before I fully believed in myself. Two counselors in particular, Paula and Lucy, made a lasting impact on my recovery.

They didn’t just listen to what I was saying. They understood where I was coming from. They had empathy because they had lived through things themselves, and that made a difference. When I talked to them, I never felt judged. They could see things in me that I couldn’t see yet.

Lucy especially left a deep impression on me, not just because of how she showed up as a counselor, but because of how she showed up as a human being. Watching her face serious illness with strength and grace changed the way I thought about my own life.

For a long time, I carried this belief that if I ever got seriously sick or faced something terminal, I would just go out and do whatever I wanted, go back to using, stop caring, and disappear into the chaos. But watching Lucy go through what she went through completely shifted that mindset for me.

She handled it with courage and dignity. She kept showing up for people. She kept leading by example.

That stayed with me.

It made me realize that recovery isn’t just about getting sober, it’s about the kind of person you become when life gets hard.

Paula and Lucy both taught me something important: every person has strengths you can learn from. If you pay attention and go to the right people for the right lessons, you can grow in ways you never expected. Their belief in me, and their example, became part of the foundation that helped me keep going.
 
Lessons Learned

One of the biggest lessons I learned in recovery was how to break life down into manageable steps. When I arrived at Grandview, I didn’t even have basic things many people take for granted—like identification or personal documents.

So I started with a simple list.
I needed an ID.
I needed my social security card.
I needed a driver’s license.

Every time I completed something on that list, it built momentum. The goals became bigger: school, employment, financial stability, and long-term plans. Recovery taught me something important:

“How do you eat an elephant one bite at a time. You don’t fix your life all at once. You do it one step at a time.”

Today, showing up means doing the right thing even when I don’t feel like it.

I don’t debate it anymore. I just do it. I brush my teeth. I take care of myself. I push my shopping cart back. I don’t litter. I treat people with respect even if they don’t respect me. I keep my commitments and I show up for my wife and the people who depend on me. Recovery gave me something I didn’t know how to access before, empathy.

For most of my life, I couldn’t even recognize my own emotions. my emotional vocabulary was about as limited as those little three-crayon packs you get at a restaurant. Today, it feels like someone handed me the whole coloring box from Walmart. Those damn feeling wheels I tell you, were a huge help. I can slow down and understand what I’m feeling and how my actions affect others. Those tools we learned, things like identifying emotions and learning to communicate, actually stuck with me.

And they’ve helped me become a better person.
 
My perspective shifted by staying connected with my sponsor who encouraged me to build recovery into my life in a way that works for me. We talk regularly and keep each other accountable. He has been huge in my recovery because he has never told me I couldn’t do something. He just asks what I’m willing to do. Those words lifted me when others didn’t when I chose a career that keeps me on the road a lot. I now know that recovery travels with me wherever I go. I attend meetings, sometimes in person, sometimes on Zoom. Recovery doesn’t stop just because life gets busy. If anything, staying connected becomes even more important.
 
Keeping Perspective

One of my favorite memories from early recovery might sound small but it means a lot to me. When I first moved into one of the RBH houses at Grandview, another resident and I used our first paychecks to buy electric Oral-B toothbrushes. We barely had any money left for the rest of the week. But we were proud of those toothbrushes. At that moment, having something as simple as a toothbrush felt like a major victory. Today, when life gets stressful or I start losing perspective, I think about back then and how having one of those electric toothbrushes felt like we made it.

And it keeps me humble.
 
Recovery is Limitless

If I could speak directly to someone just beginning their recovery journey at Grandview, I would tell them this:

I would describe it with one word: Limitless because your recovery doesn’t have a finish line. When you stop focusing on the end you learn to be present and continue growing, and the moment I stopped searching for one and focused on growing one day at a time. That’s when everything started changing.

“The day I stopped digging was the day I started growing.”

Keep showing up. Don’t give up. And never sell yourself short!

Today, I carry a lot of gratitude for Grandview. The truth is simple: if it weren’t for the people there, I genuinely believe I wouldn’t be alive today. Instead, I have a life I’m proud of. And every day, I try to honor that gift by continuing the work.