What If Success Is Simply Not Quitting

Some nights, “I’m good” is the easiest lie to tell. I’m sitting on the porch and saying the quieter truth: I’ve been tired in a way a full night of sleep can’t fix, and I almost did not hit record because I wasn’t sure I wanted anyone to hear this side of me. If you’ve been carrying more than people realize, you’ll recognize this kind of burnout right away. 

I walk through what unpredictable shift work does to your body and your life, especially when your schedule flips from days to nights and back again. It is not just about hours. It changes sleep, energy, plans, relationships, and the ability to build any routine that actually supports mental health. I also share the complicated gratitude of working corrections: it pays bills, it teaches respect and patience, and it can still feel heavier every day when the stress keeps stacking up. 

Then I get into the other part of my life: trying to build something bigger than myself through music, writing books, my website, and this podcast. I talk about the discouragement of chasing progress while staring at numbers like website visitors, Spotify monthly listeners, likes, and followers, and why I’m learning to stop measuring my worth with metrics. The takeaway I keep coming back to is simple and hard: your value isn’t measured by your paycheck, and it isn’t measured by attention. Sometimes success is refusing to quit and taking one more step. 

If this conversation helps you feel a little less alone, subscribe, share it with someone who needs it, and leave a review so more people can find the show. What’s your “one more step” right now?

Transcript

Welcome back to Back Porch Conversations.

I'm Michael.

Pull up a chair for a while.

Tonight's conversation isn't an easy one.

I almost didn't record this episode.

Not because I didn't have anything to say.

But because I wasn't sure I wanted anyone to hear this side of me.

Most of the time, when people ask how we're doing, we give the same answer.

"I'm good."

"I'm hanging in there."

"Can't complain."

But sometimes...

That isn't the truth.

Lately, I've been tired.

Not the kind of tired that a good night's sleep fixes.

The kind of tired that settles into your mind.

The kind that makes you wonder how much longer you can keep carrying everything.

Work has been one of those things.

Recently I've been getting the runaround about my schedule.

One minute it's days.

Then it's nights.

Then it's back again.

It's hard to build any kind of routine when you don't know what your week is going to look like.

Anyone who's worked shifts knows it isn't just about changing the hours.

It changes your sleep.

Your energy.

Your plans.

Your relationships.

It changes your life.

And after a while, you stop feeling like you're managing your schedule.

Your schedule starts managing you.

The truth is...

Corrections was never the dream.

It wasn't the career I imagined when I was younger.

It became the path I walked because life led me there.

I'm grateful for what it's provided.

It's paid the bills.

It's given me stability.

I've met some incredible people.

I've learned lessons about respect, patience, and humanity that I'll carry with me forever.

But if I'm honest...

Every shift feels a little heavier than the one before.

Not because of one specific day.

Just because the weight adds up.

Then I come home...

And I start working again.

I work on music.

I work on my website.

I work on 3D printing.

I work on merchandise.

I work on this podcast.

I wrote my first book.

I released my second country album.

I'm trying to build something bigger than myself.

And sometimes I sit back and ask...

"What am I doing wrong?"

Because when you pour your heart into something, you naturally hope people will notice.

Not for fame.

Not to become rich overnight.

Just enough to know your work matters.

Just enough to know someone out there connected with it.

There are days when it feels like I'm pushing a truck uphill by myself.

Every little step forward takes everything I've got.

I know there are people listening who know exactly what that feels like.

Maybe your dream is different than mine.

Maybe you're building a business.

Maybe you're raising a family.

Maybe you're trying to buy your first house.

Maybe you're just trying to make it through another workweek.

Sometimes it feels like everyone else is moving ahead while you're stuck in the same place.

Social media doesn't help.

You see success.

Awards.

Vacations.

New homes.

Promotions.

You don't always see the years of disappointment that came before those moments.

You don't see the nights people questioned whether they should keep going.

I'll admit something tonight.

There are days when I ask myself if all this effort is worth it.

Not because I want to stop living.

Because I'm tired of feeling like I'm giving everything I've got and wondering if any of it is making a difference.

I think a lot more people feel that way than we realize.

We just don't talk about it.

And maybe we should.

Because pretending we're okay all the time doesn't help anyone.

Here's what keeps me moving.

I think back to where I've been.

I remember sleeping in my Suburban.

I remember wondering what tomorrow was going to look like.

I remember starting over more times than I can count.

Somehow...

I made it through those seasons.

Not because I was the strongest person in the room.

Because I kept taking one more step.

That's all I know how to do.

One more shift.

One more song.

One more chapter.

One more conversation.

One more day.

Sometimes that's enough.

If you're listening to this and you're carrying more than people realize...

I want you to know something.

Your value isn't measured by your paycheck.

It isn't measured by likes, streams, sales, or followers.

It's measured by the impact you have on the people around you.

Sometimes we never get to see that impact.

Sometimes a kind word, a song, or a conversation changes someone's day, and they never tell us.

That doesn't mean it didn't matter.

I'm reminding myself of that as much as I'm reminding you.

Maybe success isn't always loud.

Maybe success is simply refusing to quit becoming the person you're trying to be.

I'm still going to write songs.

I'm still going to write books.

I'm still going to sit on this porch with you every week.

Not because everything is perfect.

But because I believe honest conversations matter.

And maybe, somewhere out there, somebody needed to hear this tonight.

If that's you...

I'm glad you pulled up a chair.

Thank you for spending part of your day with me.

If today's conversation resonated with you, I'd love for you to stay connected. You can find my music, my books, the podcast, my 3D printed creations, and everything else I'm building at txmrb.com.

Until next time...

Keep your head up.

Don't forget to look up once in a while.

Show up for the people who matter.

The porch light's always on.

I'll see you next time.