I’m Back: Recovery, Mental Health, New Music, and What’s Next

I’m still setting things up. Anytime I start something new, it takes a little wiggling and experimenting to figure out how it wants to roll at its best. That’s just how I work. Over the years, I’ve learned one important rule: always keep something on the burner.

Right now, that burner includes more than just music.

In the coming months, I’ll be launching a new YouTube channel focused on my personal story, specifically dealing with addiction recovery, mental health, and rebuilding life from the ground up. This won’t be a polished influencer highlight reel — it’s real life, real struggle, and real progress. If you care about recovery, mental health awareness, or what it actually looks like to keep going when things get dark, keep your eyes peeled. The channel should be live within the next month or so.

Merch has honestly been a pain in the ass — no sugarcoating that. Learning the systems, syncing platforms, pricing things correctly, and figuring out how I actually want to present it all has taken time. But I’m finally getting the hang of it, and more importantly, I’m shaping it in a way that feels authentic to who I am and what I stand for.

Looking ahead, 2026 is going to be a big year. You can expect more music than I’ve released in years, and I’ll be back on streaming services where the music belongs. This isn’t a comeback built on hype — it’s built on survival, clarity, and momentum.

I’m back, folks.
And this time, I’m building it the right way.

I’ve been wanting to sell something more than music for a long time — something people can hold in their hands, something that tells a story.

Now it’s happening.
The first wave? Strum Life™ coffee mugs for musicians — bold, loud, and unapologetic.
The next wave? Guitar accessories and gear designed for the kind of player who lives and breathes music.

Strum Life™ isn’t just merch — it’s a guitarist’s lifestyle brand.

It’s for the musician who:

Chooses music over a relationship because the guitar came first.

Lays awake at night wondering how guitar will fit into the life they’re building.

Goes the distance — and comes back with scars and stories.

Keeps chasing the dream when everyone says, “You don’t have what it takes.”

Treats guitar like an extension of their soul, not just a hobby to kill time.

If you’ve ever been told you’re “too obsessed” with music — welcome home. Strum Life™ is for the brothers and sisters who treat guitar as a craft, not a pastime.

Right now, the store’s stocked with sarcastic coffee mugs for guitar players and inspirational musician mugs that actually say something. Soon, we’ll be dropping unique guitarist gifts and practical guitar gear you won’t find at the big-box music stores.

Because Strum Life™ is dedicated to the players who keep showing up, no matter what.

👇 Shop the first drop here:
Strum Life™ Store →

People say, "They put a roof over your head." Or, "You never went without."

And for a long time, that made me feel guilty. Like I didn’t have a right to be hurting. Like the presence of material things canceled out the absence of emotional safety.

But now I know the truth: Love isn’t just gifts.

It’s not birthday parties. Or food on the table. Or a ride to school. Those things matter—of course they do. But they don’t replace being seen. Or heard. Or safe.

A child can have all the "things" and still grow up feeling broken inside. Because it wasn’t just about what they gave you. It was about how they treated you while doing it.

Were you mocked when you opened your mouth? Were you compared to others? Were you allowed to feel? Were you safe to mess up? Were you loved even when you weren't impressive?

Or did you learn to smile through shame? To stay silent to keep the peace? To accept just enough affection to survive, while pretending it was love?

This is what many of us carry. We feel guilty because we were "provided for," even though we were never really protected.

And that guilt? It keeps us quiet. It keeps us small.

But here's the truth that finally set me free: You can be thankful for what you were given and still grieve what you never got.

You can honor the roof and still mourn the rain that came through the cracks. You can hold both at the same time: Gratitude for the effort. And honesty about the damage.

Because love—real love—doesn’t come with strings attached. It doesn’t demand silence. It doesn’t shame you for needing more.

It sits with you. Listens to you. And makes you feel safe, even when you're messy.

If no one ever told you that before, let this be the first time: You were always worthy of more than just being provided for.

You were worthy of being protected. Of being heard. Of being loved without conditions.

And you still are.