Str8 Recovery

Love, faith, and recovery — this is what healing looks like when peace replaces pain, and leadership is guided by God, not ego.

Three years sober, 1,237 days clean. From chaos to calm—this is what the comeback looks like: quiet, focused, grateful, free.

On Nov 15, I put a nine mill in my mouth. 1,021 days later, I’m sober, alive, and ready to give back. FaceThyFear is proof.

Linkin Park’s Meteora was more than music — it became my first recovery guide, teaching surrender, boundaries, and survival.

Grill smoke, porch plants, and creamy pesto rotini with cayenne heat & chocolate beauty sweetness — a Savannah plate for body & soul.

From liver failure to the light—B4CK FRM TH D3AD™ is my raw FTF code for surviving darkness and learning to LIVE TO LOVE™

This rice is flavored with garlic, cayenne, and homegrown basil — cooked slow with care. A porch-born plate that Liqesha and Snowbella never

Grilling helped me heal. From ZN.4 to sobriety, I found peace in fire, flavor, and faith. This is my ritual—rooted, real, and recovery-proof

Addiction had a name: LQXA. Death had a watcher: The Grand Looper. This is how I broke free and found life on the other side.

I don’t trap anymore—I testify. Three years clean from cocaine. I loved it. It almost killed me. But God had other plans. #FTF #1109

Grilling sober. Growing basil. Resting deep. This Memorial Day, I didn’t relapse—I reclaimed peace. That’s FTF living.

Gardening gave me peace, prayer gave me power, and both keep me grounded. You don’t need perfection—just a pot, a seed, and a reason.

I didn’t come to recovery to be saved—I came because I was dying. This is how I stopped running and finally got rooted in the truth.

“That night should’ve killed me. But it didn’t. Now I speak for the ones still lost in the fog.”

The old me is dead. I am the proof. Face the truth. Trust the process. Forgive yourself. FTF style: raw healing, no fear.

Mr. 7 sent me a message before sunrise. I read it at 8. Recovery spoke in silence—and I listened. Let your light shine.

From a bar in the airport to a hospital bed in Tennessee — this is how I survived my addiction and learned to FaceThyFear.

871 days sober. Still healing. Almost lost it all—but I chose peace. I’ve got a date with success, and I won’t miss it.

I claimed a 30-day chip with liquor still on my breath. That lie haunted me—until I faced it and found real sobriety.

“I found an old shot of Bacardi in my freezer. Didn’t care. But only two pieces of garlic bread? Now that pissed me off. That’s growth.”