# The Milk Blood Project — Trailer Script

**Show:** The Show  
**Status:** The opening passage below uses Joel’s approved wording. The rest remains a working draft, not an approved word-for-word recording script.  
**Delivery direction:** Joel wants to tell the story naturally as one continuous conversation, without reading from paper or targeting a particular runtime. The complete source story is `joel-personal-story.md`; a cue-based speaking guide is in `milk-blood-trailer-speaking-guide.md`.

**Pause cue:** `[pause]` is a quiet moment for breathing or letting a thought land; don’t say it aloud. Use it only if it feels natural.

## Trailer

I care about people—the families, the friends, and the people struggling with addiction. I want people to understand addiction and recovery. I believe we’re all looking for love, encouragement, structure, and purpose: love for ourselves and for each other. You don’t have to give someone money or enable them. You can offer something invaluable—love and encouragement—and that’s free. I tell my son I love him and that I’m proud of him every day. That’s part of why this project matters to me.

[pause]

My story doesn't begin with drugs. [pause] It begins years earlier, with loss, family struggles, and a way of dealing with life that I didn't fully understand at the time.

My wife battled stage 4 cancer for 11 years. Losing her was one of the hardest things I've ever experienced. I didn't turn to drugs right after she passed away. Years went by. I was trying to support my son through difficult times, and my daughter and her husband were there for me. I leaned on them. Eventually, though, my daughter and I stopped talking.

So what did I do? [pause]

I buried myself in work. Work gave me somewhere to put my attention. I got good at separating the different parts of my life and keeping them in their own compartments. My boss once told me I compartmentalized things like a fighter pilot. I probably took that as a compliment. I could handle pressure, keep moving, and get the job done.

But eventually, those compartments started overflowing. [pause] You can only push so much aside before what you've been holding back catches up with you.

As family challenges and difficult relationships piled up, I couldn't keep everything separated. Depression became a major part of my life. I went from constantly working and solving problems to spending about a year on the couch, waiting for my disability benefits and struggling to see what came next. I had lost my routine, but I had also lost my sense of purpose.

Then I started making choices that took me down a different road. I began burning through my 401(k). I was looking for attention and connection, trying to escape how I felt about myself and my life. Drugs became part of that cycle. I was trying to fill an emptiness with things that could never fill it.

The truth is, I made those choices. [pause] What I had been through didn't force me to use drugs, spend my money that way, or stop taking care of myself. Those decisions were mine, and I have to own them.

Around March, I developed MRSA. My health had deteriorated. I hadn't been taking my medications properly, my blood sugar was dangerously out of control, and my A1C reached 17. I was in bad shape. [pause] I reached a point where I honestly didn't care whether I lived or died.

After I started recovering from the infection, something changed. I realized I wanted to live. But wanting things to change and actually changing them are two different things. After I got out, I used again. I knew I couldn't keep doing the same things and expect a different outcome. I needed to get away from the environment I had been living in, get healthy, get my head straight, and give myself a real opportunity to recover.

That's what led me to rehab. [pause]

I'm learning that recovery isn't just about stopping the drugs. It's about looking at the choices that brought me here, understanding what needs to change, and learning to live differently. I can acknowledge what I've been through without using it as an excuse. If I want a different life, I have to start making different choices.

I'm still in recovery. I don't have all the answers, and I'm not finished. I have a long road ahead, and I'm learning to take it one day at a time. My faith is part of that journey. I'm grateful to have another opportunity to get things right.

I need structure and purpose in my life. That's part of why I'm building The Milk Blood Project: to keep learning, put my energy into something constructive, and make a place where people can talk honestly about addiction and recovery without feeling judged. Addiction affects families, friends, and loved ones, too. I want them to have a voice.

I'm not here as an expert or someone who has figured out life. I'm here as someone working through my own recovery, taking responsibility for his choices, and trying to build something meaningful from his experiences. If sharing my story helps someone feel less alone, ask for help, or find a reason to keep going on a difficult day, then this project will be doing something worthwhile.

Even the name means something to me. Milk speaks to the care and nourishment we receive; blood speaks to the family ties we're born into. Together, they hold the closeness, love, and pain that can live within a family. [pause] Addiction can affect everyone connected to the person struggling. The Milk Blood Project makes room for all of those stories—and for recovery, connection, and hope.

The Milk Blood Project offers peer support and honest conversation. It isn't a replacement for professional addiction treatment, medical care, mental health services, or emergency help. Sometimes talking with others can make a difference, and sometimes we need professional support, too. There's room for both. [pause]

I'm Joel. This is **The Show**, from **The Milk Blood Project**.

We're a community of survivors. And you're not alone.

**Real Stories. Real Recovery. Real Hope. Turning Pain Into Purpose.**

## Coaching the opening

This opening is a starting place, not a line to memorize. Before recording, take one breath and picture one person listening—someone who may be carrying a family story of their own. Speak about caring for people affected by addiction, the love and structure you believe people need, and the way you tell your son you love him and are proud of him. Pause, then let “My story doesn't begin with drugs” land before you move into your wife's illness and the years before addiction. If the wording changes when you speak, follow your natural voice; the important thing is the meaning, not perfect recitation.
