For years, I lived in a cycle that felt both exhilarating and exhausting—chasing the next big opportunity, riding the highs of quick wins, then crashing hard when things inevitably fell apart. From dropshipping to NFTs, from content management to whatever seemed like the fastest path to success, I was always moving, always hustling, but never really building anything sustainable. What I didn’t realize was that I wasn’t just chasing business opportunities; I was running from myself.

From Burnout to Breakthrough: My Journey to Coaching

The Cycle of Chasing Quick Wins and Burning Out

The pattern was always the same: I’d discover a new opportunity, dive in headfirst with unbridled enthusiasm, and convince myself that this would be the one. Dropshipping seemed like the perfect business model—low overhead, location independence, the promise of passive income. I threw myself into it completely, spending countless hours researching products, optimizing ads, and scaling campaigns. When it worked, it felt incredible. The dopamine hit of a successful day was intoxicating.

But the highs never lasted. Account bans would come out of nowhere, wiping out months of work in an instant. Suppliers would disappear, leaving me scrambling to fulfill orders. The stress was constant, and I found myself drinking more to cope with the uncertainty. When dropshipping started to feel too unstable, I pivoted to NFTs during the boom, convinced I was getting in early on the next big thing. The same pattern emerged—initial excitement, some early wins, then watching everything crumble as the market shifted.

The digital nomad lifestyle I’d built around these ventures looked glamorous from the outside, but internally, I was falling apart. I’d wake up in a new city, open my laptop, and feel the familiar dread of checking my accounts, wondering what disaster awaited me. Content management became another pivot point, offering some stability, but it felt like putting a band-aid on a deeper wound. I was treating symptoms, not causes.

Each failure sent me deeper into a spiral of self-medication and reckless decision-making. I’d tell myself that the next opportunity would be different, that I’d learned from my mistakes. But without addressing the underlying issues—my relationship with alcohol, my ADHD-driven need for constant stimulation, my addiction to the validation that came from social media metrics—I was destined to repeat the same destructive patterns. The worst part wasn’t the financial losses; it was the growing realization that I was capable of so much more, but I kept sabotaging myself before I could reach my potential.

Finding Clarity: Five Months Sober and Ready

The decision to get sober wasn’t dramatic—it was more like finally admitting something I’d known for a long time. Alcohol had become my default response to stress, failure, and even success. It dulled the anxiety of uncertainty but also clouded my judgment and made it impossible to learn from my mistakes. After another failed project and another night of drinking away my frustrations, I woke up and realized I was tired of starting over. I was tired of being my own worst enemy.

The first month was the hardest. Without alcohol to numb the emotions, I had to face the full weight of my failures and the patterns that had created them. But something interesting happened around month two—I started sleeping better, thinking clearer, and most importantly, I began to see my past experiences differently. Instead of viewing them as failures, I started recognizing them as expensive education. Every account ban had taught me about platform risk. Every failed product launch had shown me the importance of market research. Every burnout had revealed something about my own psychology and limitations.

By month three, I was journaling regularly and identifying the deeper issues that had driven my chaotic entrepreneurial journey. My ADHD, which I’d always seen as a liability, started to look more like a superpower when properly managed. The hyperfocus that had led me to obsess over failing projects could be redirected toward building something meaningful. The pattern recognition that had helped me spot opportunities could help me understand human behavior and motivation. The social media addiction that had consumed hours of my day revealed how deeply I understood the platforms and their psychological hooks.

Now, five months in, I feel like I’m seeing clearly for the first time in years. The constant noise in my head has quieted, and I can actually think long-term instead of just reacting to the next shiny object. I’ve realized that my struggles with sobriety, ADHD management, and social media addiction aren’t unique—they’re incredibly common among entrepreneurs, especially in the digital space. More importantly, I’ve developed systems and strategies that actually work. The question became: how could I use everything I’d learned to help others avoid the same destructive cycles I’d been trapped in?

Building austinerkl.com: My New Coaching Path

Creating austinerkl.com felt different from any project I’d tackled before. Instead of chasing trends or trying to capitalize on market timing, I was building something that came from a genuine desire to help others. The website represents more than just a business—it’s a commitment to the long-term path I’ve chosen and a platform to share the hard-won insights from my chaotic journey. Every page I wrote forced me to articulate not just what I’d learned, but how those lessons could genuinely benefit other entrepreneurs struggling with similar challenges.

The focus areas came naturally from my own experience: sobriety for entrepreneurs, ADHD management, and social media addiction. These aren’t abstract concepts I read about in books—they’re battles I’ve fought and continue to fight every day. When I talk to potential clients about the benefits of sobriety in business, I can share specific examples of how alcohol clouded my judgment during critical decisions. When I discuss ADHD management, I can offer strategies that I’ve personally tested and refined. The authenticity in these conversations is something I never had when I was just chasing the next quick win.

Building the coaching business has required a completely different mindset than my previous ventures. Instead of looking for ways to scale quickly or automate everything, I’m focused on building genuine relationships and delivering real value. Each potential client conversation teaches me something new about the challenges entrepreneurs face, and I find myself constantly refining my approach based on these insights. The process is slower than launching a dropshipping store or flipping NFTs, but it feels sustainable in a way those businesses never did.

The biggest challenge now is patience—something that doesn’t come naturally to someone with ADHD who’s spent years chasing quick dopamine hits. Getting my first clients requires building trust, demonstrating value, and sometimes having difficult conversations about topics that many entrepreneurs prefer to avoid. But there’s something deeply satisfying about this work that I never found in my previous ventures. When someone tells me that our conversation helped them recognize their own destructive patterns, or that they’re considering sobriety after hearing my story, I feel like I’m finally using my experiences for something meaningful. This isn’t just another business pivot—it’s the breakthrough I’ve been working toward without even realizing it.

Looking back, I can see that every failure, every burnout, and every false start was preparing me for this moment. The coaching path isn’t just about helping others—it’s about finally aligning my work with my values and using my struggles as a source of strength rather than shame. While I’m still in the early stages of building my client base, I’m approaching this journey with a clarity and purpose I’ve never had before. For anyone reading this who recognizes themselves in my story, know that your struggles don’t disqualify you from success—they might just be preparing you for the breakthrough you never saw coming.