About

My name is Jeff.

I’m not a clinician, influencer, or recovery brand. I’m someone who lived the problem long enough to be forced to understand it.

My drug of choice was alcohol, but I didn’t discriminate. If it altered consciousness, I probably tried it. At the peak of my drinking, I was averaging a liter of vodka per day. When I ran out, I would get dope-sick. I made multiple trips to the emergency room. I cycled in and out of treatment. I accumulated four DWIs. I was homeless more than once.

None of that came from a lack of desire to be sober.

I wanted sobriety for years before it ever stuck. I wasn’t casual about it. I was desperate. I relapsed chronically despite doing what I was told, following the programs, listening to professionals, and trying to “want it badly enough.” Over time, I realized something was missing. Not willpower. Not sincerity. Not effort.

Understanding.


When effort wasn’t the problem

Eventually, I stopped trying to fix myself using the same explanations that had already failed me.

Instead, I used the same traits that once fueled my addiction — stubbornness, obsession, ingenuity — and turned them toward figuring out why I couldn’t stay sober. I started studying what wasn’t being taught to me by doctors, counselors, or treatment centers. I stopped accepting answers that didn’t match my lived experience.

What I found forced me to change how I saw everything:

  • drugs
  • recovery
  • human behavior
  • suffering
  • responsibility
  • and life itself

Sobriety didn’t come from a single insight or program. It came from connecting dots across disciplines that are usually kept separate.


A whole-person framework

Over time, I studied and integrated both Eastern and Western healing modalities. I began to understand recovery through the full human framework — biological, psychological, social, and spiritual — not as buzzwords, but as interconnected systems that either work together or work against you.

I became deeply interested in the science behind how the human nervous system functions, how habits are formed, how perception shapes behavior, and how meaning (or the lack of it) drives suffering. I also studied spirituality — not as dogma, but as the way humans orient themselves toward truth, purpose, and transformation.

I eventually came to see recovery not as “fighting addiction,” but as realigning a person with how they were designed to function.


Practical experience, not titles

For over a decade, I worked hands-on with people using a holistic approach to healing. I helped individuals understand their bodies, nervous systems, stress responses, and patterns — long before I had language for everything I now understand.

I don’t lead with credentials because I don’t have the kind that impress institutions. I’ve been told many times that I “should have been a doctor.” I disagree. The system would never have allowed me to help people the way real healing requires.

I did begin the process of becoming a Licensed Addiction Counselor. I stopped once it became clear that the education and the industry were largely disconnected from actual healing. I wasn’t interested in managing symptoms or checking boxes. I was interested in understanding why people suffer — and how they actually get better.


Life on the other side

Today, I’m a husband and a father of two. Sobriety didn’t give me a perfect life, but it gave me a real one. I no longer live in conflict with my own mind or body. I don’t rely on willpower to survive. I understand the systems at play.

This site exists because too many people are still being told half-truths, given surface-level advice, or blamed for failing approaches that were never complete to begin with.


Why this site exists

My Root and Rise is not about quick fixes, clever sayings, or motivational noise.

It’s about:

  • uncovering the hidden roots of addiction and compulsive behavior
  • integrating science and spirituality without distortion
  • offering practical clarity instead of slogans
  • and helping people think differently — not just behave differently

If you’re here, you’re probably not looking for encouragement.
You’re looking for answers that actually make sense.

That’s what I aim to provide.