On 54 quiet acres outside Florence, Shane Brunson is building something he once believed was impossible: a life rooted in recovery and a place where others can find it, too.
The Summerton native and Clarendon Hall graduate is the founder and operator of Lotus Recovery, an addiction treatment program that opened its doors just over a year ago. For Brunson, the work is more than professional — it’s deeply personal.
“I was a guy who you would call stubborn,” Brunson said of his years battling addiction. “I was in and out of rehabs and doing this thing for over probably a decade and a half.”
Like many, Brunson said his path didn’t begin with an obvious breaking point. After high school and a brief time at Clemson University, he returned home to support a young family. Alcohol and recreational drug use eventually escalated, but it wasn’t until he discovered pain pills that everything changed.
“I started taking pain pills, and they were amazing,” he said. “Everything — like the birds chirp louder, the sun shines brighter. This is great.”
When the pills ran out, Brunson said he believed he had the flu — until someone explained he was experiencing withdrawal.
“And I knew that was the moment,” he said. “I was like, ‘I’m an addict.’”
What followed was more than a decade of trying to outthink and outwork addiction. Brunson said he relied on willpower and intelligence, convinced he could solve the problem himself.
“I try to use self-will, self knowledge — ‘OK, I’m smarter than most people. Let me beat this,’” he said. “And that’s what kept me sick for a long time.”
Over time, everything began to unravel — work, relationships and stability — even as he tried to maintain the appearance that everything was fine.
“It’s like you’re in a crumbling house, and you’re running around just trying to hold up the exterior so it at least looks OK,” he said. “And you can’t. It’s crumbling around you.”
When that life finally collapsed, Brunson said he experienced something unexpected alongside fear: relief.
“The one thing that I was scared of is everybody knowing,” he said. “But then the relief… because now all that fear is gone.”
He also found support where he expected shame.
“I thought it was gonna be nothing but blame,” he said. “For the most part, everyone was supportive. As long as you’re trying to help yourself, they will be.”
Brunson achieved sobriety in January 2019. In recovery, he said, he discovered a level of clarity and purpose he hadn’t known before — and a desire to help others find the same.
That desire eventually became Lotus Recovery, which Brunson operates alongside his wife, Stephanie Brunson, and co-founder and executive director David Brooks. The three previously worked together in treatment and shared a vision for a more recovery-centered approach to help people.
“A lot of things with insurance and finances stand in the way of treatment,” he said. “I found myself getting frustrated … and then I had that moment: if you think it should be different, do something different.”
Brunson began searching for property where a new program could take shape. Initially, he said, he was looking for five to 10 acres. Then he stumbled across the Florence property that now houses Lotus Recovery.
“When we pulled onto the property, you just knew,” he said.
Lotus Recovery opened Jan. 13 of last year and currently houses 18 men, with plans to expand in the coming months. Brunson said additional housing is planned that will allow the program to grow its capacity and eventually provide dedicated space for both men and women on-site.
The program combines structured treatment with long-term support, typically beginning with a 90-day stay followed by sober living. Residents participate in daily group sessions, individual counseling and recovery-focused routines designed to rebuild stability and independence.
Staff members, Brunson said, are intentionally chosen for their lived experience.
“Almost everyone here is in recovery,” he said. “I really like for someone to have that lived experience. It’s hard for me to really understand what you’re going through unless I’ve been through it.”
The approach helps create what Brunson describes as a family environment — one that extends beyond a client’s time in treatment. Many who complete the program remain connected through meetings, mentorship and continued support as they transition back into independent living.
Referrals come from families, individuals and other treatment providers across the region. Demand has grown steadily, and Brunson said the program currently maintains a waiting list. One of the facility’s next goals is finalizing insurance partnerships to make treatment more accessible.
“We don’t really like to say no,” he said. “But at the end of the day, we have to keep the doors open.”
For Brunson, the work is about more than operating a treatment center. It’s about reaching people who feel isolated and hopeless — feelings he remembers well.
“I wish we could let everybody know that they’re not alone,” he said. “I remember that was one of the loneliest feelings — like you’re on an island, and nobody gets you.”
Today, Brunson said the life he has in recovery is far better than anything he once imagined.
“Trusting the process — it works,” he said.
