Louis and Aaron sit across from Joe Haag in a quiet studio, microphones on, the soft hum of the equipment blending into the background as Joe prepares to share the kind of story most people spend their lives trying to hide. But Joe isn’t hiding anymore. For him, honesty has become a lifeline.Joe grew up in a neighborhood where survival came before childhood. The streets were loud, unpredictable, and soaked in the kind of chaos that becomes normal only when you’re too young to know any different. In Joe’s family, alcohol wasn’t just present—it was inherited. Addiction ran through generations like an unbroken thread, and Joe learned early on that everyone coped with pain in their own ways. Unfortunately, the examples he saw were almost all destructive.By the time he reached his teens, drugs and alcohol were part of his daily reality. Not because he wanted to rebel, but because using felt like the only way to quiet the noise inside his head. The fear, the anger, the sadness—substances made all of it disappear, at least for a moment.But fast moments turn into lost years. And for Joe, the spiral was quick.What makes Joe’s story remarkable isn’t the fall—it’s the rise. Somewhere in the chaos, he found the strength to walk into a recovery room and ask for help. That choice changed his entire life. What followed were 13 years of sobriety. Thirteen years of rebuilding trust, repairing relationships, and learning how to live without the crutch he’d relied on for so long. Joe became the kind of person others in recovery looked up to: steady, strong, and proof that long-term sobriety was possible.But addiction is patient. It waits.Joe admits the signs that led up to his relapse were there long before he picked up again. The meetings he stopped going to. The emotions he started stuffing down. The quiet belief that after 13 years, maybe—just maybe—he was “cured.” He wasn’t. No one is. And one moment of vulnerability was all it took for him to slide back into a darkness he thought he’d outgrown.Relapse is heartbreaking, especially after more than a decade of sobriety. But Joe refuses to let shame write the ending to his story. Today, sitting with Louis and Aaron, he has three months clean. Three months of early mornings, honest conversations, hard truths, and painful growth. Three months of fighting—sometimes minute by minute—against a disease that never really goes away.What makes Joe’s story powerful isn’t that it’s perfect. It’s that it’s real. He’s proof that addiction doesn’t discriminate, that recovery isn’t linear, and that no matter how far someone falls, they can get back up.Joe is back on the path, one day at a time—sometimes one breath at a time—doing whatever it takes to reclaim the life he fought so hard to build. And as Louis and Aaron listen, it’s impossible not to feel the strength behind his words. Joe isn’t just surviving anymore.He’s learning to hope again.🔥 Expect emotion. Expect truth. Expect hope.🔔 Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe for more powerful stories on addiction, recovery, and resilience.Get a Grip Podcast Social Media: Find our TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, iHeart Radio links, a more on our Link Tree below!Get a Grip Social Media Links: ⁠https://linktr.ee/officialgetagrippodcast👇 Let us know your thoughts in the comments.