Camelback Recovery

I dedicate a full hour to my morning routine: breathwork, prayer, meditation, and a gratitude list. Coffee included! It's too crucial to skip. Even if it means waking up at 4 AM, I make it happen. This time sets the tone for everything.

The first 8 years were spent in crack houses and shelters, enduring abuse and kidnapping. This is the story of survival against unimaginable odds.

I took acid, stole a car, and then promised myself never again. But hitting rock bottom on the walk home, I chose m**h over facing my mom. That decision became the template for a 14-year addiction, cycling through drugs and an inability to keep promises to myself.

Chasing a high with toilet water, then co***ne without a needle. Paranoia sets in as the company I built goes into my arm. Thinking they're after me, I hide the evidence in the wall.

At 18, I was in the bathroom with a loaded gun, ready to end it all. The trigger pulled, but it misfired. That's the only reason I'm here today. It was a moment where all hope felt lost. ***deAttempt

Before an Ironman, they didn't run, bike, or swim. Witnessing others, regardless of perceived limitations, sparked a belief: 'I can fu***ng do this.' This mindset applies to recovery too—anyone can achieve it.

I swore on the Bible, swore on my children's lives, that I'd never do drugs again. Then, I robbed my kids' piggy bank for more. I hate myself. I hate what I've become.

It started with a golf cart and observing people at their most uninhibited. Ryan shares the unexpected story behind creating his show, 'Night Cart Confessions', born out of a spontaneous need for a job and a keen observation of candid moments.

The struggle with suicidal thoughts and inner voices can feel insurmountable, even when seeking help. Finding a way out of the darkness is possible, and recovery is real. ***dePrevention

In a moment of deep despair, I abandoned my wife and son for another woman. The shame was overwhelming, leading me to contemplate ending my life. Recovery was my only salvation. It showed me how far I had fallen.