I was addicted to the grind. Morning to night. Seven days a week. Deals. Calls. Meetings. Side hustles. If I wasn't making money, I felt useless. If I wasn't tired, I felt lazy. Rest wasn't rest to me-it was wasted time. My phone never left my hand. Even at the dinner table. Even during conversations. Even when my people were right in front of me, I was somewhere else mentally, chasing the next coin. I told myself I was doing it for them. For my family. For the future. But the truth? I was doing it for me. Because when I was hustling, I didn't have to feel. Didn't have to sit with my thoughts. Didn't have to face the fact that I didn't really know who I was without the busyness. My wake-up call? My son's fourth birthday. I was in the corner taking a "quick call" that lasted an hour. When I came back, cake was done. Gifts opened. He looked at me and said, "Daddy, you always leave." That cut deep. I'm learning now that presence is greater than provision. That the people who love me would rather have less money and more of me. That rest isn't weakness-it's medicine. Still a work in progress. Still learning to put the phone down. Still learning that I am enough without the next deal. Anyone else addicted to working? When did you realize busyness was a mask for something deeper? How do you learn to just... be still?

This hit me hard, especially the parts about growing up in the village and the feeling of wanting to belong. It’s so easy to see how that search for connection, which is so normal and human, can lead us down paths we never intended. The contrast between your professional success and personal unraveling is stark—a first-class degree and a CEO title couldn't fill that void. The line that stuck with me most is: 'recovery wasn’t about fixing my circumstances, but about changing myself.' That is such a profound and hard-won insight. Thank you for your vulnerability in sharing the ugliest parts, not just the triumphant ending. It makes your healing now feel so much more real and earned. I'm cheering for you and your continued journey, one day at a time.