Author: Jason Mayo

He was 30-something. A young dad with a little boy who worshipped him, watched his every move like he hung the moon. His son needed him—really needed him—in ways not every kid does. He had challenges that required more patience, more attention, more everything, and his dad showed up for it all. Every bit of it. And the kid adored him for it. If you knew him, you’d hear about that boy within minutes. Didn’t matter what we were talking about—recovery, work, life—his son came up. He was his life. His face would light up like a neon sign just saying the…

Before I got sober, life was chaotic. Depression and anxiety were a regular occurrence, and panic attacks weren’t anything out of the ordinary. I felt constant pressure to be everything for everyone: the overachieving employee, the perfect dad, the dependable husband, the good son, the reliable friend. I was running myself ragged, trying to live up to impossible expectations—many of which I’d created in my mind. Back then, I was also writing a dad blog, and in my warped perception, the entire internet was hanging on my every word. I imagined people refreshing their browsers, eagerly awaiting my next post.…

I’ve done hard things in my life. Getting sober was one of them. I had to hit AA meetings every day. It required diving into the 12 steps. I had to face the absolute cesspool of emotions I had drowned in alcohol for years. It was the hardest, most transformative thing I’ve ever done. And yet…I keep eating sleeves of Mega-Stuff Oreos at midnight. It’s like I’m training to go head-to-head with Joey Chestnut.  I’m not kidding. I’ve woken up with the same crushing remorse after an eating binge. It’s exactly how I felt after a night of blackout drinking. I end…

Sober Dad Crew is a podcast focused on sobriety, recovery, fatherhood, parenting, music, food, tattoos, and more. The mission of Sober Sad Crew is to share stories of sobriety and recovery and show that there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. This podcast is an independent, DIY production created by Stephen Kimball, who writes, records, and produces the podcast.  Sober Dad Crew on Spotify Sober Dad Crew on Apple Podcasts Episode 50: Jason Mayo – Show Notes Written by Stephen Kimball Welcome to episode 50. When I started this, it was a totally DIY affair, and it…

Staying in the moment is something I work on every day. Practicing mindfulness makes everything more manageable, less stressful, and more fulfilling. It forces me to slow down. It allows me to appreciate what’s right in front of me. It fosters deeper and more meaningful connections with my family, friends, and co-workers. On the other hand, staying in the moment screws up my ability to multitask. It throws a wrench in the otherwise organized chaos I’ve always disguised as productivity and ambition. While I’ve been living in the moment, quite a few things have fallen by the wayside lately. I haven’t been…

When I got sober in 2010, I was 39. From the outside, my life seemed pretty perfect—a beautiful family, a successful business, a popular blog, a nice house, two cars, and, for God’s sake, over 3,000 Facebook friends. But on the inside, I was unraveling like a sweater from Temu. My anxiety and depression were off the charts. Work felt suffocating, and my wife was fed up with my drinking, saying she never knew which version of me would walk through the door at the end of the day. I thought my drinking was only hurting me, but it had…

The other day, I was browsing my LinkedIn feed and came across an illustration that caught my eye. There were three glass jars, all the same size. Each jar had a black ball inside. The first jar’s ball was big enough to occupy the whole jar. The second jar’s ball was smaller, and the third was tiny. It appeared that the ball in the jars was shrinking over time. A caption underneath the illustration read, “People tend to believe that grief shrinks over time.” Underneath the illustration was a second set of jars. This time, the jars increased from the smallest…

I just Googled, “What are human beings most afraid of?” I was expecting death to be at the top of the list, but it isn’t. It isn’t even on the list.  What the heck is wrong with people today? Is the world so fucked up that even death isn’t the scariest thing out there? Have people become so desensitized that eternal darkness has been reduced to an afterthought?   Has anyone seen the Grim Reaper lately? Maybe he’s too busy making TikToks or sitting in an abandoned storefront underneath a sign that says, “Closed for business.” Someone should check on…

One hundred thirty-one days, eleven hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty-two seconds. No. I am not singing that song from RENT. Even though it’s catchy as fuck.  The countdown is officially on—the countdown for what, you ask. Hannukah? Nope. Christmas? Nope. Boxing Day? I’m not even sure what Boxing Day is. I am an alcoholic in long-term recovery. To me, this means I live with substance use disorder, one day at a time. I have learned to modify my behavior. This enables me to live a healthy, productive, and sober life without having to drink or use any substances. It took…

My therapist broke up with me today, so I’m listening to my sad playlist. Ironic right? Although she once told me that listening to music that fits your emotions is a healthy way to process those emotions, I still want to talk to my therapist about, well, my therapist. More irony. Ugh. I miss her already. She said that it wasn’t me, it was her—something about the end of exemptions or state lines or some state bullshit. I believe her, though. I believe her because I trust her. I have feelings for her. Not like that. In a patient-therapist way.…

My first year of recovery was an amazing ride. For the first time in 25 years, I felt absolutely no urge to drink whatsoever. At that point in my life, it was an unfathomable achievement. I went from depressed, self-loathing, and downright hopeless to a motivated, inspired, and spiritually fit version of myself. I couldn’t explain the change then, and I can’t explain it now. The gratitude was oozing out of me like drool from the muzzle of a Bernese Mountain Dog. My sponsor at the time kept telling me, “You’re seeing things with a new pair of glasses, kid.” …

An old saying always comes to mind when I think about my recovery.  “It takes a village.” I had so much love and support from so many people when I first got sober. I was fortunate. It would have been impossible to accomplish that on my own.  My village was as much bustling as it was desolate. It was vast, and it was small. My village was sometimes accessible and sometimes remote. My village was populated with family, friends, doctors, co-workers, peers, and mentors. My village was filled with love and patience, encouragement and understanding. It was also filled with music.…

Before I got sober, everything I did revolved around alcohol. I drank during the week. There was always a client dinner, a happy hour, or a special event. I also might have installed a beer tap at the office as a “perk” for staff and clients. My friends and I had season tickets for the Rangers, and what was a hockey game without a few $12 beers, a hotdog, and a knish? On the weekends, my wife and I always hosted get-togethers for our friends. Preparing the cooler was a ritual I took pride in. If we went out to…

Every time I open any of my social media apps, I feel like they’re all trying to murder me. It doesn’t matter which one. They’re all out to get me. At night, after I put my phone down on the night table, I look under the bed to make sure it’s safe. I have nightmares about Insta and Facebook standing over my prone, sleeping body, waiting for the right moment to smother me with their huge digital pillows. I don’t think I’m being paranoid. Maybe I’m being a tad dramatic for the sake of compelling content, but paranoid? I think…

When was the last time you cried? I’m not talking about the type of crying you do at the end of Rudy. I’m talking about that Ricky Schroder type of crying, like when he can’t wake up the Champ. 😭 I’m talking bloodshot eyes, snot everywhere, and eyeliner that looks like someone left tire tracks on your face. The type of crying that makes it hard to breathe. The type of crying where you can’t get the words out. The type of crying that makes you rethink everything you thought you knew about yourself. For me, it was yesterday, in my…

By Guest Contributor: Jason Mayo, Sober Not Subtle Let’s talk about tattoos, shall we? Whether I am meeting someone for the first time, or seeing someone I’ve known my whole life, I inevitably get asked three questions about my tattoos. The first question is, “why?”, the second question is, “how many do you have?” and the third question is, “do all of your tattoos have a meaning?” Where are my inked brothers and sisters? The first question is easy to answer. Because they look Metal as f*ck. That’s why. Question number two is also an easy one. No clue. I…