Embracing the Chaos: My Journey Through Addiction, Recovery, and Rediscovery

After wrestling with the idea of sharing this over the past few months, I’ve realized that being honest might not only benefit me — it might also reach someone out there going through a similar struggle.

If you’re reading this, try to identify with the concept, not compare the details.

I began my career in the early 2010s after more than a decade of searching for myself and battling addiction. I finally graduated from Rutgers Newark – College of Arts and Sciences with my BFA in Graphic Design. That milestone was only possible thanks to my higher power guiding me into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous.

My first design job was in NYC at a promotional products and production company in the fashion district. I was enamored with the hustle and loved the controlled chaos that came with my first real career opportunity.

But beneath the surface, I was struggling. I’ve lived with ADHD my whole life, and that brought all the character defects that come with it — inconsistency, distraction, restlessness, and self-doubt. I compared myself to everyone around me and became a chameleon, constantly shifting my personality, style, and opinions to fit whatever version of “normal” I thought I was supposed to be.

At that time, I was also in a serious relationship. Everyone around me seemed to be getting married, buying houses, and having kids. So, I followed suit. We got engaged, bought the house, adopted the purebred bulldog, and started a family.

But I hadn’t yet grown into the man capable of sustaining that kind of life.

What followed was a slow and painful relapse that lasted eight years.

Professionally, I kept chasing titles and pay raises because I had no gratitude for what I already had. I left a stable job for a startup that promised more — but instead came late paychecks, long hours, and a brutal three-hour commute. As a new homeowner with a family to support, the pressure was crushing.

Eventually, I took a pay cut to work at a small screen-print shop in NJ, hoping for peace and balance. Instead, I was laid off after three months. I told myself it was because I was “too expensive,” but in truth, I was underperforming and taking advantage.

When my marriage began to crack, I once again quit before I could fail. I got my CDL and started driving trucks — a lonely profession for someone already lost inside their own thoughts. The drinking worsened. I became a slave to myself — selfish, self-centered, and spiritually bankrupt.

Eventually, I ended the marriage and withdrew from everyone. Alone in a one-bedroom apartment, I drank around the clock, praying not to wake up each morning — and hating it when I did.

During that dark period, I reconnected with someone I’d gone on one date with years before — a date I had ruined by drinking too much. We began a relationship, both of us battling our own demons while trying to raise her son together.

One night, during a marathon of Intervention episodes, something inside me broke open. I realized I couldn’t keep living like this. The next morning, I told her I needed help. Within three days, I was in rehab.

This time, when I re-entered the rooms of AA, I did it for me.

Not long after, I felt a calling back to what I loved: design. I began freelancing again for old colleagues and rebuilding something that mattered.

My recovery journey hasn’t been perfect, but I’ve never stopped trying — to grow, to serve, to be better. And that effort has bled into every part of my life and career.

Today, I’m stronger than I was in 2021. I have a renewed faith in God, a sense of gratitude for each day, and a posture of service in everything I do. I’m learning that success isn’t about control or comparison — it’s about connection, consistency, and compassion.

This is who I am now:
God-centered. Caring. Loving. Helpful.

That truth carries into both my personal and professional life.

If this story resonates with you, I hope it reminds you that no matter how far gone you feel — you can always come back.

I am embracing the chaos… and it’s driving me every day.

Cheers,
Tom