Mike's Story
Born and raised on a farm, I grew up with a deep connection to the land and a strong work ethic instilled by my parents. My mom was dedicated to her faith and community, and my dad, a telecommunications technician, was also a cattle and tobacco farmer. My childhood was a blend of hard work and pure joy, punctuated by early mornings of forking cow manure, fixing fence posts, and shooting hoops. Basketball captured my heart at the tender age of five, and from then on, Saturday mornings became a cherished routine of chores followed by hours on the court.
During my elementary school years, I was a good student, made friends easily, and was fairly well-liked by both peers and teachers. Yet, despite my social success, I often felt a disconnect deep within, a sense that I didn’t quite fit in or couldn’t truly connect with others. This feeling persisted even as I excelled on the basketball court, playing for the Northern Kentucky Heat, a highly competitive Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) team that drew the best talent from across the region.
Throughout middle school, I continued to balance academic and athletic achievements, becoming a member of the National Honor Society, the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, and of course, the basketball team. But the inner struggle remained. I wrestled with my weight and often felt like I was faking my way through social interactions, trying to fit into groups that never quite felt like home. However, on the basketball court, everything else faded away, and I found a sense of peace and purpose that eluded me elsewhere.
High school was a pivotal time for me. I attended Simon Kenton High School and graduated with honors in 2003, even if my classmates occasionally helped me out with a few test answers. On the basketball court, I became a decent player in the 9th Region of Northern Kentucky. The summer before my senior year was transformative—I worked tirelessly, shed some weight, and gained a few inches in height. As a result, a few Division 3 and Division 2 schools began to show interest in my potential. Ultimately, I chose a D3 school, prioritizing playing time over the possibility of riding the bench at a higher level.
My first year of college basketball was both fun and stressful. I was technically part of the Top 8 in the rotation, but keeping up with my teammates was a constant challenge. Despite the difficulties, I worked hard and eventually earned the role of the 6th man, even starting a few games. But even then, amid classes, practices, and socializing with new friends, I still felt that familiar disconnect, that nagging sense of not fully belonging. I found myself saying things that others found odd, and the instant judgment in their eyes would make me clam up, retreating into my own world.
My introduction to alcohol came at age 16. Initially, I didn’t care for the taste, but the calming effect it had on me was something I hadn’t experienced before. It allowed me to embrace my quirky side, to feel okay with being different, and to feel accepted. During those years, I drank socially at parties, but nothing excessive. However, college was a different story. The partying began, responsibly, at first, but it quickly escalated.
After a decent first year at a D3 school, I transferred to a local D2 school to play for a coach I had admired since childhood. But that summer, while playing in an open gym, I suffered a serious back injury. The pain was intense, and I was prescribed opiates to manage it. This is where my story truly begins.
In 2005, I was prescribed opiates for my pain, and what started as a way to manage physical discomfort soon became a crutch for my deep-seated emotional pain. The opiates didn’t just mask the physical pain—they brought my mind to a state of calmness that I had been seeking since childhood. A single pill quickly turned into two, then three, and before I knew it, I was caught in the vicious cycle of addiction.
Despite my struggles, I graduated from college in 2008 with honors, managing to maintain the appearance of a normal life while becoming a social drinker and occasional opiate abuser. I started my career, hitting goals and exceeding expectations at a rental car company, all while secretly battling my addiction.
Then, in 2009, my world came crashing down. My dad suffered an ischemic stroke, leaving him paralyzed on one side of his body. The following year, my mom also had a stroke from the stress of caring for him and managing family responsibilities. My dad, a man who lived to serve others, was now a shadow of his former self, and the burden of caring for him took a toll on our entire family.
During this time, a coworker introduced me to Oxycontin, and I quickly fell into a deeper spiral of addiction. The pressure from family members, coupled with the overwhelming grief of seeing my dad’s condition, pushed me further into the abyss. From 2009 to 2012, I struggled immensely, enduring the pain and shame of addiction while trying to keep it hidden from those around me.
In 2012, I sought help at a Suboxone clinic, but even then, the road to recovery was rocky. I continued to struggle with alcohol, using it as a social crutch while trying to navigate the responsibilities of adulthood. My addiction to opiates was replaced by a dependence on alcohol, and I found myself in a downward spiral that led to multiple overdoses, psychiatric ward visits, and the loss of nearly everything I held dear.
The turning point came when I finally raised my white flag in complete defeat. I realized that my attempts to control my life and my addiction had only led to more pain and suffering. It was time to take a hard look at myself, to understand why I had become the way I was, and to seek true healing.
Over the next three years, I focused intensely on my recovery, dedicating myself to the inward journey of self-discovery and healing. I founded FocalFlip, a life-changing coaching program designed to help others make a transformative shift in perspective. My mission is to destigmatize mental health and addiction, to bring these issues into the light, and to help others find the strength to rebuild their lives, just as I did.
Today, I am committed to helping others navigate the challenges of recovery and mental health. I believe that by sharing our stories and supporting one another, we can break down the stigmas that keep so many people trapped in silence and shame. Through FocalFlip, I am dedicated to creating a safe, supportive community where individuals can explore their inner selves, discover their true potential, and embark on their own journeys of transformation.
Michael Kannady is a Certified Professional Life Coach (CPC) through the International Association of Professional Recovery Coaches (IAPRC) and NET Institute. Michael's practice is deeply rooted in life experience with a unique ability to relate with and meet client's specific needs, wherever they may be in life. With a specific focus on the mind, Michael tailors strategies for overcoming challenges, enhancing performance, and creating true life change.