💀 The $7 Wake-Up Call That Might Save Your Sobriety (and Your Wallet)

Let’s cut the shit and get honest: recovery is expensive.

Not just the kind of expensive where you’re clipping coupons for rehab snack bars. I’m talking wreck-your-credit-score, sell-your-bike, can't-afford-rent expensive. And if you’ve relapsed as many times as I have, you know exactly what I mean.

We’re told to get help. We’re told it’s available. But what they don’t tell you is that help often comes with a fat-ass price tag and a side of soul-crushing debt.

How the Hell Is Anyone Supposed to Afford Recovery?

Let’s lay it out.

The average cost of a 30-day inpatient program? Anywhere from $15,000 to $30,000.

And that’s not some Malibu beachfront “spa treatment for your sins.” That’s a shared room, cafeteria food, and a counselor who’s probably burned out as hell.

Medication-assisted treatment like methadone or Suboxone? Try $4,000–$12,000 a year if you’re paying out of pocket. And most of us are. Because insurance? Even if you have it, the coverage is a roulette wheel of limitations and fine print.

By the time I hit my third DUI, I had forked over close to $200,000 in court fines, therapy sessions, “required” classes, and all the gas money to drive to meetings where old men told me to “pray more.”

(Yeah. That worked.)

So let me ask again: how the hell are we supposed to afford recovery when just surviving it costs more than college tuition?

I Bought the Bullshit Before. You Might Be Buying It Now.

I used to think, “If I just worked the steps harder, it’ll stick this time.”

I went all-in. Church, prayer, groups. Hell, I was leading a faith-based recovery program. I had the language down. I had the mask on. I had the sponsors and the check-ins and the accountability partners.

And then I drank again.

And again.

And again.

Because here’s what no one told me at the time (or maybe they did and I just wasn’t ready to hear it): Recovery doesn’t happen when you outsource your healing. It happens when you f*cking own it.

Recovery Doesn’t Happen To You. It Happens Through You.

I created a $7 mini-guide called The Brutally Honest Guide to Avoiding Relapse: The Ownership Secret. Not because I wanted to be a guru. Not because I think I’m special.

I did it because I got tired of watching people like you and me keep falling down the same damn hole with no one telling us the truth.

I wrote this after a brutal personal wake-up call. Years sober. Living what looked like a clean life. And then my wife looked me dead in the eye and said, “You’re slipping again.”

I wasn’t drinking. But I was irritable. Mean. Isolating. I was becoming that old version of myself—the one who always had a reason to relapse.

She saw it. I felt it. And instead of spiraling, I sat my ass down and wrote everything I wish I’d had earlier in recovery.

What’s Inside This $7 F*cking Life Raft?

You won’t find platitudes or pretty workbook pages. You won’t find empty affirmations or spiritual bypassing.

You’ll find the truth. The stuff I didn’t want to write. The stuff you probably don’t want to read. But need to.

💥 Step 1: Own Your Story

Stop editing your truth to make it palatable. I spent years pretending my DUIs were “just mistakes.” That the emotional damage I did was “unintentional.”

Nah. That was me—unhealed, reactive, and stuck.

In this guide, I walk you through creating a “Brutal Truth Journal.” The kind of inventory that makes your skin crawl. Because guess what? That’s where freedom lives.

🔥 Step 2: Own Your Triggers

Relapse doesn’t start with the drink or the pill. It starts in the mind. It starts when you’re pissed at your wife. When your boss gaslights you. When you’re lonely and scrolling through Facebook wondering why everyone else’s life looks better than yours.

I help you map that shit out. Not just “feel your feelings.” Track your fcking patterns.* Recognize the setup before it becomes the downfall.

⚙️ Step 3: Own Your Actions

Willpower is a lying little bitch. It fades. What doesn’t fade? Systems. Habits. Routines that are built for you.

I’m not here to tell you to meditate at sunrise. I’m here to tell you to pick three damn anchors in your day—morning, midday, and night—and use them like your life depends on it. Because spoiler alert: it does.

🌱 Step 4: Own Your Future

Recovery isn’t about just surviving one more day without using. It’s about building a life you don’t need to escape from.

Where do you want to be in six months? What would make life so good that drinking would feel like sabotage?

If you can’t answer that yet, this guide helps you figure it out—without drowning you in vision boards and toxic positivity.

But Wait, Isn’t This Just Another Recovery Program?

Nope.

This isn’t a program. It’s a mirror. It doesn’t replace AA, NA, therapy, or any of that. It compliments it by slapping you with the one thing most people avoid:

Ownership.

The $7 guide isn’t about making you feel warm and fuzzy. It’s about handing you the flashlight and saying, look at your own shit. Then clean it up. Not all at once. Just one small piece at a time.

The Myth of Motivation

You don’t need more motivation. If motivation worked, I wouldn’t have canceled three gym memberships in 2017.

You need tools. You need structure. You need to get uncomfortable enough that change becomes a necessity, not a someday.

And you need to stop thinking relapse is just part of the journey.

It’s a detour. It happens, yeah. But it’s not some rite of passage. Treating it like it’s “just what addicts do” is how we stay stuck.

The Real Cost of Doing Nothing

Let me hit you with the big number again:

$600 billion. That’s how much addiction costs the U.S. every year.

For you, that looks like:

• $3,000 ER visits
• $15,000 lost jobs
• $100,000 court and legal fees
• Broken relationships that no amount of therapy will repair
  
  

I’m not saying this $7 guide will fix all that. I’m saying it might be the cheapest thing you ever buy that actually stops the bleeding.

Look, I’m Not Here to Sell You Salvation.

I’m here to offer you a tool. One I built from blood, tears, gravel trails, late-night journaling, and a whole lot of therapy.

I believe recovery should be accessible, not elite. I believe you don’t need to be “cured,” because you’re not broken. You’re bruised, pissed off, probably tired, and still capable as hell.

So here’s the deal:

👉 The Brutally Honest Guide to Avoiding Relapse: The Ownership Secret
💵 $7
📥 Instant download. No upsells. No bullshit.
📘 Real strategy from someone who’s lived it, not just studied it.

Final Word:

You are not a broken soul who needs saving. You’re a f*cking warrior with battle scars and a brain that’s been hijacked by pain, habits, and half-truths. The world isn’t going to hand you healing.

So go take it.

Want to build your recovery one raw truth at a time?
👉 Grab the damn guide.

Then get your boots dirty and start owning your sh*t.