Under the Influence to Major Influencer: Mike Majlak
One Creator’s Impossible Story of Addiction and Success
“So how was the reaction to your last piece?” Mike asked me over FaceTime with genuine care and concern in his voice. He was wiping off sweat and apologizing profusely for being late to our interview because he was doing something called the “Hot Chip Challenge” with Logan Paul.
I let him know how grateful I was that he even agreed to it in the first place. “Incredible. Thank you so much for doing it. Actually. . . the guy who I wrote it about reached out to me, and told me I was the reason he got off drugs.”
Mike: “Oh my god Sawyer. . . . that’s amazing.”
I smiled silently to myself and questioned the universe (again) how the fuck I got here.
Me: “Okay let’s just get straight into it.”
Mike nodded in agreement as if we were trusted partners about to devise a plan to rob a bank.
“You say in the book that pain is short-lived for some people. Do you have those people in your life now? If so, how is that difficult, considering how much you’ve gone through as an ex-opioid addict?”
Mike: “I mean here’s the thing about pain. Pain is so subjective to the person who is going through it. Someone may go through a ten year addiction, and that could be the greatest pain they’ve felt. Someone else could lose a child, and someone else can break a toe. All three of those people have technically felt the worst pain of their life. I don’t know if it’s a matter of how long you suffer, but also how well you’ve processed and moved on from that pain.”
As I was talking to him, and hinting at things that I’ve gathered through the phantasmagoria of memories I have of him on the internet, I realized that despite my rare connection to him through my sister who set up the call, I really first met Mike the same way millions of other people have. . . watching him on Youtube, some place far far away from LA. I watched him talk and joke and laugh harder than I’ve ever seen someone laugh. I’ve been in bed painting my toenails with my computer continuously slipping off my silk sheets, watching Mike next to one of the most famous people on the internet of our time — Logan Paul — describing the most insane parties, asking perfectly articulated finance questions to the real, actual Jordan Belfort, having a panic attack in front of a sexpert, and trying to wrangle the wild girls from the Call Her Daddy podcast. Whether I like it or not, I was a straight-up fan, and I couldn’t even believe he was giving me the time of day, again.
Me: “I can see sometimes that you’re resisting letting the podcast get too dark, and I can also see Logan looking at you as if to say ‘hey let’s not go all the way there.’ Why is that. . .have you been waiting to tell it yourself? Is it advice from Logan?”
Mike: “I mean look it’s a mix. We want to make people feel like they can escape from their every day lives, from their own pains and struggles. But more so, my story is fortunately not something that the majority of people can relate to. Everyone has gone through some sort of heartbreak. But when I tell people my story they’re always like “yo this is fucking crazy.” It just doesn’t stop. And one of those people is my best friend in the whole world — Logan. Logan will never understand the collateral damage that I went through and still deal with today. The biggest point is that I didn’t make this book for the Impaulsive audience. I think everyone can take something from [it] — I put my heart and soul into it — but. . .I made this book for the forgotten ones, the people who have no light left in their life. It’s for the people who haven’t talked to their family in ten years, who just got out jail, who don’t feel like they have a reason to still be here. This is for the people who fucking need it.”
I quickly realized I hadn’t exactly fallen into the demographic of people that typically watches their shows or vlogs. Even though I was always hoping Mike would delve more into his pain and continue his sentences after he trails off and refocuses back on the Impaulsive guests, maybe the majority of people are just genuinely hoping for a break from their own problems.
Me: “Obviously you’ve lived two completely different lives. Do you want people to read the book, see you as a different person, and then close that chapter — or do you want that past to be included into who you are today? In other words, how much rebranding are you trying to do?”
Mike: “I don’t, I don’t uh…..I don’t have a choice. That life of mine will never go away completely. I didn’t have to tell this story, you know what I’m saying? I didn’t have to. I’ve built up many different streams of business and income. I didn’t have to do this. And honestly, it wasn’t the most pleasant experience reliving all this. I did this for people. Whether or not I want that part of my life to be openly discussed or to be a mainstay of my public image — it’s a mainstay of my life. And honestly, if I could go back and trade it in, and go to a four year college and meet you know, college friends, and do the drink at the bar and meet a nice girl all that stuff — I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it. . .because everything that I went through made me exactly who I am today and for one of the few times in my life I love who I am. I really, thoroughly do. I love life — I love living. It made me who I am and it gave me a story to help others. And with those two things, I would never want to give any of it back. Even the most painful days.”
Me: “In chapter two you say that you were a ‘normal, happy kid who played basketball, hung out with friends’ . . .and then you turned into a full-fledged opioid addict. Do you think that in some ways you’re just trying to get back to being that happy kid? Considering your lifestyle now, you know, with Logan and the vlogs — or are you simply just trying to pick up where you left off?”
Mike: “I talk about this sometimes. There’s a theory that developmentally, a human does not continue to progress once they become an addict. I gave up 8 plus years of my life to addiction. I spent absolutely no time developing anything — mentally, physically, emotionally, behaviorally, just not maturing any of that. So, in a lot of ways I’m 26 years old. My attitude and behavior reflects that.
More than that, I’ve always been a clown, always someone that enjoys laughing. Even though that time as an addict made me stop laughing, I laugh more now and smile more now because of my addiction. It takes quite a bit for me to become angry, upset, resentful, because of what I’ve seen and been through. When I wake up now it’s a gift, it’s a blessing to even still be here. I have good days and bad days just like everybody else, but for the most part. . .this is all bonus. Everything that you see now, it’s a bonus. My journey on this planet should have ended ten years ago, if not more. I should’ve choked on my own vomit face down in a fucking parking lot. That should have happened. So now, everyday that I’m here — all of the little ancillary issues in life just don’t really get to me that much, and I’m able to stay relatively patient.”
Me: “Is there any relation to the lifestyle that you had — the addiction that you had. . . to now? Are you addicted to work?”
Mike: “Yeah for sure. I went through two phases: I became addicted to exercise for a while, I just spent all my time at the gym. I lost more than 100 pounds after I got clean. But then as soon as I started to see some level of success in my first days of being clean, it started a fire in me. I can totally go off the deep end and neglect girlfriends, I can neglect family members, friends, everything — for work. Absolutely. It’s something I have to work on. But that’s a big theme especially throughout the book — everyone’s a work in progress.”
Mike began referring to his life now, which is the book he paints a glamorous image of. Recently, he moved into Logan Paul’s “seven million dollar mansion” — originally to help rebrand Paul’s “public image,” but the house has now formed into a launch point of his own fame and influence. Mike’s “life now. . .plays out inside massive houses in the Hollywood Hills, partying with the elite. . .A private chef. . . [everyday] like an episode of Entourage.”
Mike continued talking, no longer red or stressed from Carolina Reaper peppers, but instead deeply tapped into a place of calm truth and sincerity.
“. . . and I know all this looks pretty, but I promise you, I’m on the same exact level as everyone else, just trying to get by and find some semblance of balance in this life.”
Me: “That reminds me of our last interview. I think you were saying something about how addiction can be especially humbling for a man — being at the mercy of addiction, at the grip of drugs and alcohol. And I was reading. . . you were ‘scared that [you] would be remembered as Mike Majlak the drug addict, the kid who threw his life in the garbage.’ That is such a powerful statement. How do you want to be remembered now?”
Mike: “That statement that I made was always really important to me. Even my entire time as an addict, I’ve always been obsessed with legacy — it was something that was incredibly important to me. I know a lot of people wanted financial success and fame. You know, for a while I became so obsessed with this idea of — however big you get, or famous you get — once you die, there’s only a couple years left for you, and then you’re forgotten. There’s nothing wrong with that, it just always irked me, to know that entire stories are just gone. I’ve always been slightly obsessed with leaving some sort of legacy or mark on this earth. And when I got clean and I started to make money and get famous, or some level of celebrity, I realized that those things paled in comparison to helping someone. And it’s not even paled, there’s absolutely no comparison. I can look at a million dollars in my checking account, and say ‘I can have anything in the fucking world that I want,’ and it really just sits there. There’s nothing I want. But when I get a DM from a kid who is in his late twenties and is in the same place that I was in, and is like ‘hey I heard you talk on this [podcast] and I haven’t used heroin in six months.’ There’s more times that I can count that I’ve broken down crying. I’ve had people reach out: ‘my friend’s on dialysis, I don’t think he’s gonna make it through this and you’re his favorite person in the world’ — I’ll still never understand that.”
As he spoke, I realized I was not all that different from those people he was describing. I’ve never personally experienced addiction, but I’ve cried shaking in the corner of my bathroom floor, felt like I just quite simply could not keep going, wanting life to be done, and given up trying to pull myself out of bed enough times to qualify as someone who’s been shifted by Mike’s words. And maybe that’s why I was sitting virtually right in front of him, with access to the deepest parts of his mind. I wasn’t interviewing him, I wasn’t helping him promote his book, I was just getting to meet someone who had also healed me.
Mike: “The goosebumps. . .the feeling I get in my body from knowing that I helped someone gain just a little bit better of a feeling. That’s what I’m here for, quite literally what I’m here for. All that other stuff is ancillary benefit. That’s it. I’m still a fiend for the success and the fame and the money but my hope is that I stay rooted in the thing that actually selfishly makes me feel good. It’s like my new drug. This book is the biggest experiment in that.”
The whole time he talked, I still had questions in the back of my mind that I had trouble articulating over and over again: How the fuck are you processing all of this? How can you conceptualize going from digging out a scar in your septum with a rusty razor because you couldn’t breathe right from doing so much cocaine. . .to one of the biggest influences behind influencers, and an influencer yourself — sitting in mansions, playing all day, eating at the most expensive restaurants in the world, dating arguably one of the most beautiful and successful adult stars today? I figured I would understand by the end of our talk. So I continued, and read out loud to him one of my favorite quotes from his book.
“When I get back to the house from an event or a dinner with studio executives, my jaw is tired from smiling. I kick off my shoes, put my feet up, and stare at the ceiling. None of these people know shit. . .”
Me: “You say that you felt like you were going through your whole new life in LA with a huge secret. Who do you think will cause the biggest release you feel when they finally know the truth — your family? Your friends? Or your fans?”
Mike took a long pause and a deep breath. So long, in fact, that I thought for a moment the FaceTime was glitching, which ironically happens more often in the biggest mansions in LA than apartment complexes in K-town (don’t ask me how I know this). Another pregnant moment followed, and then another, until the point that I felt he may have been tearing up, or thinking about just straight up hanging up on me.
Mike: “Um.”
Another deep breath. He moved his head to the side and looked down at something. My insecurity twisted again and it convinced me he was texting or checking an email. At this point I had pretty much forgotten what I had even asked, and right when I was about to say something to deflect whatever the fuck I let fly out of my mouth. . .
Mike: “That’s a really, really good question. My family and friends have somewhat of an understanding of all of these things. So it’s hard for me to stray from the group that I know I’m most excited for the release from: the group that can’t pull the needle out of their arm, the group that can’t stop cutting themselves, the group that hasn’t gotten out of bed in two weeks. That is who this is for. There is no ability to relate, or a community that exists in this world stronger than the community than those struggling. If every person out there who was struggling with something had someone to mirror that, I believe this world would have far less issues. The power of knowing someone else is going through the same thing you are is unparalleled. This is for the people who need it.”
Since he put so much time and thought into answering, I probed him further about the liberation he will feel after his friends in LA understand the depths of his battles. I mean, how can he live and work with so many people who just have no idea? Still, the biggest release he thinks he will feel will be from people he doesn’t know?
Mike: “I mean yeah, it will definitely feel good to have the rest of the community here in LA know what’s going on. But — okay imagine the amount of conversations I have. . .they’re all the same. It’s a handshake, a smile, maybe a picture. I’ll venture off and go to get a soda at one of these parties, and then the photographer will come up to me, or the kid that’s collecting empty bottles off the table, and they’ll say ‘hey Mike I know you don’t know me but two years ago my mom killed herself and I didn’t want to be here. From seeing your content and knowing what you went through, and you talking about it. . .I felt the power to continue being here.’ I’ll leave the party and that will be the only thing I take from it. I mean this community and my friends and all the celebs here are great, and I appreciate it thoroughly.”
The way he said “appreciate” still rings in my ears. There was so much power behind it, it was as if he was holding my hand and showing me Mufasa-Simba style what was his and how much it meant to him.
“But, the conversations and relationships that I care about the most are the ones that happen when I walk past a bus stop. Saying that honestly scares me because I feel like a lot of people say that or try to put that on as some sort of thing that they can wear, but how deeply that burns inside of me. . .is hard to explain. There’s nothing that makes me feel better than helping people — truly helping people.”
Me: “Is there any fear that you revealed too much?”
Mike: “For sure. There was a lot of stuff that I didn’t want to talk about. But my fear was always the result of me revealing too little than revealing too much. This book is fucking disgusting, it’s gruesome, it’s awful. Some of this stuff I’m just straight up ashamed of, but that’s why they’re in there. It’s important to tell those stories. I know I’m strong enough to tell them.”
Me: “I mean, the scale of success and feedback I’m on is nowhere near yours, but in my experience, its always worth it to tell them.”
We shared a warm smile somehow felt through our phones, I puffed out one of those wow breaths as silently as I could, and continued.
“What do you think people still get wrong about you, and maybe still will after this book comes out?”
Mike: “I think people always think I’m this jovial clown. But me as a person and what I’ve been through is more rooted in the complexity of life and this desire to figure things out. I got truly obsessed with the word a couple years into my recovery: disillusionment. It’s this idea that life does not contain the magic that you once thought it did. At some point [during my recovery] I got very disillusioned and jaded. I guess more than anything I want people to know that I’m multi-dimensional, and multi-faceted, and a lot of that responsibility falls on me to cover those topics. But I think maybe it’s just that people think. . .”
Me: “You’re just this happy-go-lucky guy all the time?”
Mike: “Yeah, and I know the question was also what they will still get wrong afterwards, but the truth is. . .I hope that they don’t.”
Me: “What was the percentage of triggering to healing while writing this book?”
Mike: “For me to be locked in a room by myself for years writing this, I was triggered a lot. It was 100% triggering. You know, it was intense — intense bouts of tears, depression, shame, regret, sadness about the things that I’ve done. But that led me to crying and processing, which led to those wounds healing. Triggering and healing go hand in hand. I guess they say the strongest muscle is built from tearing the previous one down. The process of breaking down and then rebuilding, I mean that is my story. Without that, there is no strength or man or forging of this incredible character.”
Me: “Considering the intense code shift your life has taken, is there some level of imposter syndrome you deal with?”
Mike: “What do you mean by that?”
Me: “I mean you know, the feeling of just ‘how the hell did i get here’ that sometimes causes celebrities to break down or feel like they aren’t worthy of their success.”
Mike: “Yeah, it’s even more prevalent in the digital scene. I dealt with a lot of that. People thought I was just a crackhead who befriended the right person. It’s been an uphill battle the whole time. I mean listen, I’m 35 years old playing in an industry of youthful twenties and teens, I’m new to it, and the person I teamed up with is one of the most loved and hated people in the entire industry. You know, my climb to the semi-top of the digital arena has been very similar to the climb of my [previous] life, it’s been a microcosm from everything else that I’ve been through. There’s been a lot of pushback from the audience, from people in the city, even the industry itself. ‘Who is this guy, where’d he come from?’ But really, I’ve known my entire life that I’ve had a gift. While it’s crazy for me to imagine where I am and the things I’ve been able to accomplish, I believe I’ve known my entire life. . . I just needed to find the right outlet for it. And the right path.
My only hope is that the people reading it who are suffering know that they can be equally successful at something. I don’t know what it is. And maybe they don’t either. And I know that’s tough. I know that’s so fucking tough. Because I’ve been in that fucking place where I’ve traded penny stocks and then a month later I’m writing for America Online, or I’m running a camp for dogs.”
I laughed hard at the imagery of a camp for dogs.
“That really happened,” Mike said in between his raised eyebrows and an I-know-right kind of smile. “And that was four fucking years ago.”
Mike: “My advice for people is that through the suffering, you try a lot of things. If you like taking pictures, find a way to buy a camera. Actually, instead of trying stuff, just do stuff. Look, you’re not trying to be a writer, you’re a fucking writer. An established writer.”
Suddenly I felt the truth coming at me hard and fast. Here’s one of the most successful people I had ever met, telling me who he knows I already am and who I have the potential to become. Telling me to believe in my own magic. I swallowed a guilt bubble of Oh shit, I really haven’t been.
Me: “I’ll leave you with a question my friend Ivy recently asked me, who has a lot more followers and fame than I do — it’s something that blew my mind. I know I have nothing compared to either of you in terms of a social media presence, but with everything I write I can feel it gaining traction, every article is getting gnarlier, more people are seeing them. . .”
Mike chuckled supportively and lovingly said “nice.”
“The other day I turned to her and said ‘Ivy, I’m really afraid all of this is just gonna go away.’ She looked me in the eyes and I felt her stare penetrate me. I felt like one of Jeffree Star’s Pomeranians making eye contact with a bald eagle.
‘And what do you have if it all goes away?’ Ivy asked me.”
Mike laughed and smiled big, indicating he had definitely thought about that before.
“She looked around, gesturing me to understand what was in front of me: my family, friends, and a beautiful place to be and exist, learn and grow.
I gulped guiltily and said ‘a lot.’”
I pulled myself out of my glamorized rant and re-established virtual eye contact with Mike. “So my question to you is the same: what do you have if this all goes away tomorrow? What would you still have?”
Mike: “Okay. I have a functional answer and I have a romantic answer. My functional answer is that I have a hundred other revenue streams and routes to success. My romantic answer is this: the best life ever. Social media has been great to me, it puts a shit ton of money in my accounts, it has introduced me to all of the people that make all of the things happen for me. It is also one of the most toxic things in this entire fucking world. It is all consuming. It’s a catch-22. It can bring the greatest riches and can equally destroy your fuckin’ life. The one thing — and this is the best way I can answer it — the one thing I’ve always looked for in my life, especially after getting clean. . . whenever someone asks me ‘what are you doing all of this for? What’s your biggest wish for yourself?’ It has always been peace of mind. It is my greatest pursuit of my life. Just to be at peace.”
Me: “And how far away are you from that?”
I smirked, hoping he wouldn’t call me out on my lie about the previous one being my last question. He didn’t seem to remember.
Mike: “Very far. Potentially farther than I’ve ever been. But yeah, to answer again, what do I have without social media? Hopefully I’ll be floating down a lazy river with a shit ton of peace of mind.”
We both giggled and I felt like we were little kids — siblings, who were laughing at something funny their dad did. I felt healed all over again. And I hadn’t even gotten through half the book yet.
Mike’s book, The Fifth Vital, is available now on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Fifth-Vital-Mike-Majlak-ebook/dp/B087BC3L43/ref=mp_s_a_1_2_nodl
