Day 46 - The Past

When the Past Shows Up

This week has had its rough moments, to say the least.

I recently applied to the PhD in Leadership Studies program at California Baptist University. As part of the application, I had to list any prior arrests or convictions. Unfortunately, that’s not a short list for me. Over the last ten years, I went from having a completely clean record to accumulating multiple charges: two DUIs, two battery charges, two for disorderly conduct, one misdemeanor assault, and the one that changed everything—one felony aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. Most of these occurred within a chaotic three-year period of my life.

From the age of 34 to 37, I was living in Nampa, Idaho, while my daughters were growing up in Avon, Connecticut. That distance was hard—on them, on me—and I coped in all the wrong ways. I also carried with me some beliefs from my early life that I now know were rooted in trauma and ego. I grew up believing it was better to be feared than loved. I spent years training in martial arts and normalized fighting—whether in bars or on the street—as long as it was “mutual.” In my mind, it was just sport. But the truth? It was all about ego, pain, and control.

On November 26, 2013, everything changed.

I had just closed a deal to bring in a business partner to my freight brokerage firm, and I was set to make $40,000 in cash. I should’ve been celebrating responsibly. Instead, I found myself alone at The Busted Shovel, a bar in Meridian, drinking and chatting with the bartender—one of the only people who still enjoyed my company back then.

Late into the night, a group of five guys and one woman walked in. The woman smiled at me as I was heading to the bathroom, and one of the men said something disrespectful. I took the bait. We argued. I told them I’d fight all five, one by one, out front.

This wasn’t new behavior for me. I had done this sort of thing before—more than once ending up in the hospital after being jumped. I can’t even explain why I thought that was okay, but it’s how I coped with my inner chaos. Three years prior, I had been a District Director for a national telecom company. I had money, a great marriage, beautiful kids… and I was on top of the world. But alcoholism was silently tearing it all down.

That night, the bartender I’d befriended asked me to leave. “Come on, man, there are five of them and one of you. Do me a favor and walk away.” I respected him, so I left.

But outside, who I thought were the same guys, jumped in a truck, shouting and flipping me off. I believed they were going to follow me, so I turned around and got behind them. They kept brake-checking me, making me angrier and angrier. Eventually, they pulled into a neighborhood, parked, and jumped out. One of them ran toward a house. I knew then they were trying to trap me.

I tried to reverse, but when I looked up, one of them was charging my car with a bat. I swerved and escaped. As I drove off, he smashed my back window with the bat. I went home… but instead of letting it go, I drank more and convinced my girlfriend to drive me back to their house to “get revenge.”

I never made it there. We were pulled over. I was arrested and later charged with two felonies.

Despite the fact that no one was physically hurt and the supposed “victims” never showed up to testify, I still ended up pleading to one felony. I served four years—most of it behind bars. But in that time, I stopped playing the victim. Prison forced me to look at my life with clear eyes. I finally saw the insanity of my behavior. I finally saw the trauma I was still reacting to—and how unhealed pain had led me down a very dark road.

Fast forward more than a decade.

Today, I am sober. I am no longer on probation or parole. I own a business. I’m rebuilding. But the past still shows up.

A few days ago, an admissions counselor from CBU contacted me. Because I marked “yes” to the question about past convictions, I now need to submit a personal statement and supporting documentation. I understand. But it still stings. It’s a reminder that I am different than most applicants.

That wasn’t the only punch in the gut this week.

Someone reached out to me on LinkedIn with an incredible opportunity to take over an existing book of business in the insurance and financial services industry. We had a great conversation today. I was genuinely excited. But then came the question: “Will anything in your background prevent you from being licensed?”

I answered honestly. And just like that, the conversation ended. Despite my qualifications, the door slammed shut—ten years later, my past still has that kind of power.

But I’m not bitter.

I don’t let moments like this knock me down anymore. I see them for what they are—reminders that I don’t run the show. God does. And when one door closes, I have to believe that He’s opening another one somewhere else.

I can’t afford to be resentful. Resentment is a luxury I lost long ago. What I can do is stay on the path I’m walking. Keep building my business. Keep giving my will and my life over to a power greater than myself. And keep writing—to heal, to share, and maybe, to help someone else feel a little less alone.

If you’re in recovery, or struggling to get there, just know this: You are not your past. You are not your worst decision. And if you're still breathing, there’s still time to change the story.

Day 44

My Recovery Journey: Finding Balance One Day at a Time
By Scott Young

My name is Scott Young. I’m 46 years old and currently live in a small town in Western Oregon. I’m the founder of ST Consulting, LLC—a business I started just over two years ago to help small and medium-sized companies grow and succeed.

Originally from Nampa, Idaho, I relocated to Oregon to be with my fiancée, Michelle. In the midst of all this life change, I’ve also begun walking the path of recovery—and let me tell you, it’s not easy.

I’ve attempted sobriety before, and while I’ve had some success with 12-step programs, I’ve never been able to hang on long enough for long-term recovery to truly take root. Time and again, I’ve tried to play the director of my own life, calling the shots and steering the wheel. But that hasn’t worked for me. Not even close.

Now I know—I have to surrender. I have to give my will and my life over to the care of God in order for things to fall into place the way they’re meant to.

The Four Pillars of My Recovery

My approach to recovery is grounded in four key areas of health: mental, physical, spiritual, and emotional.

I work on each of these every day, because I’ve learned that like muscles, they grow stronger with consistent attention and the right fuel. When nurtured daily, these four components start to work together in harmony—producing more growth than any one of them could alone.

This synergy is what helps me heal and build something solid and lasting.

I’m Not the “Perfect” Example—and That’s the Point

Let me be clear: I’m not an expert on sobriety. Or at least, not the kind you usually see writing blogs.

Yes, I’ve learned a lot about recovery—probably more than most people. I’ve had stints of sobriety: a year here, a couple of years there. But each time I relapsed, it hit harder, with more devastating consequences.

I’ve studied recovery obsessively for over a decade. I’ve been through jails, prisons, treatment centers, and inpatient mental health facilities. I’ve read the books, listened to the talks, and sat through the meetings. Honestly, I probably have the equivalent of a master’s degree in addiction and recovery—on top of the actual MBA I earned in 2020.

But this blog isn’t about showing you how I’ve “made it.” It’s about showing you that I’m still here—still trying, still learning, and more committed than ever to getting it right.

Understanding Addiction from the Inside

If you’re not someone who struggles with addiction, it can be hard to understand.

People ask, “Why don’t they just stop?” or “Isn’t it just a choice—drink or don’t drink?”

If only it were that simple.

Addiction rewires your brain. It alters how you think, how you feel, and what you believe is possible. Until you’ve walked a mile in an addict’s shoes, it’s almost impossible to understand what it takes to get—and stay—sober.

My hope is that by sharing my journey openly and honestly, you’ll start to understand. You’ll get a glimpse into the daily struggle, the small victories, and the ongoing fight to regain control of a life that once felt beyond repair.

Where I Am Today

As I write this, I’m on day 44 of sobriety.

I’m actively working a 12-step program. I attend meetings every day. I do reflection work and write personal inventories that I plan to share here as part of this blog.

I want you to walk this journey with me—not just so you can see the wins, but so you can understand the setbacks, too.

In 2011, I was at the top of my game—serving as a director in the telecom industry. By 2014, just three years later, I was in prison for an alcohol-related offense. I spent the next seven years in and out of the criminal justice system, trying to find my way back.

This blog is a piece of that comeback story.

If you’re struggling with addiction—or love someone who is—I hope you’ll stick around. I don’t have all the answers, but I’m willing to be real about the fight. And maybe, just maybe, that will help you find the courage to keep fighting, too.