In 2009, while pursuing a degree in kinesiology and developing an interest in bodybuilding, I sustained a back injury that would change the trajectory of my life. As prescribed by my Dr, I took painkillers for the first time to ease the pain. However, over the subsequent months, I transitioned from experiencing adverse physical reactions to these medications to becoming fully addicted.

Within a year, I began using needles—something I had sworn I would never do. Shortly after, I transitioned to heroin, a stronger and more cost-effective version of the opiates I had become addicted to. As you can imagine, things quickly fell apart from there. Over the next few years, I was in and out of six rehab facilities, none of which led to more than 30 days of sobriety. After gradually running out of money and possessions to sell, I began selling heroin to a small group of other addicts to support my habit. Less than six months later, I was arrested and charged with three counts of trafficking heroin in a state that had a mandatory minimum sentence of 10 years for each charge. I was looking at a minimum of 30 years and a maximum of around 63 years. To make things worse, someone had rolled on me and done three controlled buys, so fighting the charges was pretty much out of the question.

Fortunately, my parents managed to get me a decent lawyer with what money they had, because I couldn’t afford one. After several evaluations and court appearances, I was offered 10 years and was told by the prosecutor that it was the best deal I was going to get. The thought of spending the next decade in prison was terrifying, but it seemed much better than the potential 63 years. I asked if I could have a month to prepare, which they agreed to, so I signed for 10 years in prison. This was my first and only arrest, so as you can imagine, I was shitting my pants. I moved my handful of possessions to my dad’s house and tried to spend some time with family until I began my sentence.

A few days before I was to turn myself in, I was napping when my dad woke me up and said my lawyer was on the phone. I got on the phone, and he said, “I don’t know how this happened, and I’ve never heard of this happening, but your judge is rejecting your deal and offering you 13 months in jail followed by two years of drug court and 10 years of probation.” I had no idea what was going on, but I loved the idea of not spending the next decade in prison. I accepted the new deal, and within a week, I began serving my sentence.

About six months into my sentence, I found out that the head of the task force that had arrested me had also been paying the informant in my case to have sex with him, which answered some questions about why my sentence had changed so suddenly. After serving 13+ months, I was released and began drug court, but staying clean outside of jail turned out to be harder than I had anticipated. Drug court can be helpful for two things: getting clean and finding drugs. I ended up relapsing a few times, each time getting put in jail for a few more days. Eventually, during a week-long violation, I was coincidentally placed in the same cell where I had served most of my original sentence. I remember laying there one night, staring at the same fucking light, thinking about how every time I went back to jail, it felt like I was moving five steps backward, and those few forward steps I had taken were not easily earned. I was sick of what had become my life for the past five years, and I remember making the conscious decision that things were going to change—that was my last violation.

I completed two years of drug court, and at my last court appearance, my drug court judge (the same judge who rejected my 10-year deal) said I could have my felonies reduced to misdemeanors that day, or I could keep the felonies until I finished the degree I was working on when this all started. I chose the latter and went back to college, finishing my degree that year, and had my felonies dropped. I had been working serving jobs while I was a felon, but now that the felonies were gone, I just had no work history and a horrible answer to, “So what have you been doing the past few years if you weren’t working?”

This was actually around the time I first heard about Bitcoin, which would end up changing my life. I was at a party, and one of my friends mentioned that someone he knew had just made $50k from an investment in something called “bitcoin.” I had never heard of it but was immediately interested and left the party to go home and read more about it. Shortly after, I made the decision that I was going to really focus and change my situation. I completely stopped drinking, partying, socializing, dating —all of it. If I wasn’t working my day job, I was reading, studying, trading, or learning something related to crypto—which would become the norm for the next 6-7 years.

During that time, I made some life-changing trades. I was able to flip NFTs for a down payment on my first house and hit my first seven-figure trade. I was also able to transition to a job where I now work with and advise on matters related to crypto and blockchain technology.

December 1, 2024 I will have 10 years clean from heroin. It’s safe to say that 10 years ago, I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would be where I am today.

I typically avoid talking about myself and self-aggrandizing, but I’m hopeful my story can help or inspire others in similar situations—if I can make it, anybody can. Sometimes it just takes a little focus and dedication.