TJ Dumser TJ Dumser

Struggles & Sound: How Music Helped Me Through Addiction

Struggles & Sound: How Music Helped Me Through Addiction

Music has always been more than just sound to me—it has been a refuge, a guide, and, at times, a lifeline. When I look back at my struggles with addiction, I see the moments where music became more than just an outlet; it became a way to ground myself when everything else felt uncertain. It was through sound that I found a path forward.

The Weight of Addiction

Addiction doesn’t happen all at once—it creeps in, slowly entangling itself into the fabric of daily life. What starts as an escape can become a dependency before you even realize it’s happening. I found myself caught in that cycle, searching for relief from the anxiety, the restlessness, and the ever-present feeling of being unmoored.

For a long time, I didn’t acknowledge the weight of it. Addiction is insidious because it convinces you that you’re in control, that you can stop anytime you want. But the truth was, I had lost control, and I needed something to pull me out of the spiral.

Finding Solace in Sound

Music had always been there, but during my lowest moments, it took on a new role. It became a constant, something I could rely on when everything else felt uncertain. The repetitive patterns of looping, the slow evolution of soundscapes—these elements mirrored the process of healing. Each note, each delay, each subtle shift in tone reminded me that change was possible, that growth was happening even when it wasn’t immediately noticeable.

Ambient music, in particular, became a safe space for me. The expansiveness of it—the way it allows the mind to drift, to breathe—helped me navigate the chaos within. I found comfort in the slow movement of synth pads, the warmth of analog textures, the unpredictable yet soothing quality of vintage synthesizers like the Moog Matriarch and Korg PS-3100.

Creating as a Form of Recovery

As I started to heal, I turned to creation as a way of processing everything. The sounds I crafted weren’t just compositions; they were reflections of what I was experiencing—anxiety, release, stillness, and renewal.

Six Missing became, in many ways, a reflection of this journey. The project was never about making traditional songs but about creating a space where sound could serve as a form of meditation, both for me and for those who listened. I realized that if music could help me find moments of clarity, it might do the same for others navigating their own struggles.

Music as Therapy

There’s a reason sound therapy has been used for centuries—certain frequencies, textures, and rhythms can calm the nervous system, reduce stress, and even help rewire thought patterns. Though I didn’t set out to create “healing music,” I began to recognize its therapeutic qualities.

I started receiving messages from listeners who told me they used my music to cope with anxiety, to focus, to feel less alone. That connection reminded me that music is communal, that even in our most isolated moments, we are never truly alone.

Celebrating Sobriety & Moving Forward

This April, I am celebrating 11 years of sobriety. It’s a milestone that reminds me how far I’ve come and how music has played a crucial role in my recovery. Each year reinforces that healing is possible, and that creativity can be a powerful force in that journey.

Moving Forward

Recovery is not a straight path. It’s a continuous process of learning, of unlearning, of discovering new ways to exist in the world. Music remains a vital part of that process for me. It serves as a reminder that even in the most difficult moments, there is still beauty to be found, still space to breathe, still sound to anchor us.

As I continue creating, I do so with the hope that my music provides others with the same solace it has given me. Whether you’re listening for relaxation, meditation, or simply to escape the noise of the world for a while, I hope you find something in it that resonates.

Until next time, Your fellow human just being.

  • Six Missing

Resources for Support:

  • If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, help is available. Visit SAMHSA’s National Helpline or call 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

  • If you’re experiencing thoughts of self-harm or suicide, reach out to the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline by dialing 988 or visiting 988lifeline.org. You are not alone.

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