A Letter to Myself | 500 Days Sober – LTMD Episode 17b
Today marks 500 days sober.
There was a time in my life where I honestly didn’t know if I would survive what I was putting myself through — addiction, chaos, fear, anger, broken boundaries, and the collapse of the life I thought I knew.
For my 500th sober day, I decided to write a letter to the version of myself who thought everything was over.
This isn’t a motivational speech.
This is the truth.
The truth about alcoholism.
The truth about cocaine.
The truth about losing control.
The truth about faith, rebuilding, service, discipline, and learning how to become somebody stronger after devastation.
Louder Than My Demons was never built to pretend life is perfect.
It was built to prove survival is possible.
If you’re struggling right now:
keep going.
You might be closer to rebuilding your life than you realize.
—
⚔️ Louder Than My Demons
The Five S’s of Survival:
Sobriety • Spirituality • Self-Care • Strength • Songwriting • Service
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00:00 — Dear Jozey…
01:58 — How Everything Fell Apart
04:32 — Rehab, Therapy & Rebuilding
07:20 — Let Go and Let God
10:02 — The Five S’s
12:20 — Service & Helping Others
14:18 — Family, Friends & Support
16:45 — Love, Hope & The Future
18:30 — We Made It
A Letter to Myself | 500 Days Sober
A Letter to Myself — 500 Days Sober Today marks 500 days sober. That sentence still feels strange to write. There was a point in my life where I honestly didn’t know if I was capable of changing. Not really changing. Not temporarily getting it together. Not surviving another rough patch. I mean truly rebuilding my life from the ground up. A year and a half ago, I was exhausted. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. I was losing myself slowly and pretending I wasn’t. The alcoholism kept growing. The cocaine use kept growing. The boundaries in my life kept slipping. And like a lot of people struggling internally, I became very good at hiding pieces of myself while convincing myself I still had control. Until eventually… I didn’t. What followed was the hardest period of my life. Not just because of what happened around me… but because for the first time, I had to honestly look at myself. I had to stop blaming. Stop running. Stop numbing. Stop pretending. And I had to ask a question that changed everything: Who do I become now? The answer didn’t come overnight. It came through rehab. Through therapy. Through faith. Through difficult conversations. Through consequences. Through patience. Through discipline. Through learning how to sit still with myself again. And somewhere during all of that, the foundation for Louder Than My Demons started forming. Not as a brand. Not as a podcast. As survival. The Five S’s slowly became part of my life: Sobriety. Spirituality. Self-Care. Strength. Songwriting. And eventually… Service. Because I’ve learned something over these last 500 days: Selfish recovery doesn’t last. Healing really begins when your pain starts helping somebody else survive theirs. I’m not writing this because I think I have all the answers. I definitely don’t. I’m still rebuilding. Still learning. Still growing. Still healing. But I also know this: I’m not the same man I was 500 days ago. I’ve become closer to God. Closer to my children. Closer to the people who truly stood beside me when life fell apart. My son showed strength and grace beyond his years and helped guide me closer to Christ during some of the darkest moments of my life. My daughter never stopped believing in me. My family. My friends. Stacie. Curran. My band. They helped hold me together when I honestly wasn’t sure I could do it myself. And somewhere along the way… I realized love didn’t disappear from my life. It just showed up in places I wasn’t looking for. I also realized something else: Numbers aren’t the point. Not views. Not downloads. Not followers. Truth is the point. Connection is the point. Service is the point. If one person listens to something I say late at night and realizes they aren’t alone… that matters. So for my 500th sober day, I decided to write a letter to the version of myself who thought everything was over. The version of me sitting in confusion, fear, shame, anger, addiction, and uncertainty. The version of me who couldn’t yet see what was still possible. This is that letter. Watch the Full Video Today at 6:00 PM, I’ll be premiering the live reading of this letter on YouTube. This was filmed in one take. No script edits. No performance. Just the truth. ▶️ Watch the premiere here: https://youtu.be/7BqUYcqodKc December 29, 2024 A Letter To Jozey “Dear Jozey… I know you think your life is over. I know you’re sitting there replaying every conversation… every mistake… every warning sign… trying to figure out where everything broke. You keep asking why. Why this happened. Why it ended this way. Why somebody you loved could choose destruction over peace. And maybe the hardest thing you’re going to learn… is that you may never get that answer. She chose. She chose how this story unfolded. She chose how far things went. She chose actions you couldn’t control. And eventually… you’re going to have to stop trying to understand every choice another person made… and start focusing on your own. That’s the part nobody tells you about survival. At some point… you stop asking: ‘Why did this happen to me?’ And you start asking: ‘Who am I going to become now?’ Right now, you don’t know that. Right now you’re exhausted. You’re angry. You’re embarrassed. You’re heartbroken. You feel like your identity collapsed overnight. You lost the woman you loved. You think everybody is staring at the worst moment of your life. And they are. But if you’re honest… this didn’t happen overnight. Your alcoholism kept growing. The cocaine use kept growing. Your boundaries kept slipping. Little compromises. Little lies to yourself. Little moments where you ignored the voice telling you something wasn’t right anymore. And eventually… all of it catches up to you. And that part hurts to admit. But it’s the truth. And the truth is the first thing that finally starts setting you free. But here’s what you don’t understand yet… this isn’t the end of your story. It’s the beginning of the first honest chapter you’ve lived in a very long time. You’re going to realize very quickly that you cannot survive this alone. And for the first time in a long time… you’re going to ask for help. Real help. Rehab. Therapy. A great lawyer. And somehow… when your entire world feels like it’s collapsing… you’re going to find the right one of each. Exactly the people you needed. Not to save you. But to help you rebuild yourself. You’re going to spend a long time trying to understand why all of this happened. And eventually… you’re going to realize that some answers never come. Some people choose chaos. Some people choose destruction. Some people choose to hurt others. And you can drown trying to understand it. Or… you can rebuild. And that’s what’s coming. Not all at once. Not overnight. Not easily. But slowly… you’re going to start becoming somebody stronger. And just when you think everything is over…