When Prescott left the military, he was lost. PTSD consumed him. Alcohol, cannabis, and tobacco were his only coping mechanisms. Jobs slipped away. Home became the streets.
“I was homeless for a long time, couldn’t keep a job,” he recalled.
But what looked like rock bottom became the soil for transformation.
Discovering Ormus and Finding Presence
It took a friend four months to convince Prescott to try Ormus, an ancient mineral substance some call the “Food of the Gods.” When he finally did, the shift was subtle—but undeniable.
Over time, Ormus helped him quiet the anxiety and find presence. “Presence equals peace,” he said.
Armed with a chemistry degree, Prescott built a makeshift lab and began creating his own formulations. He sold unmarked bottles at Erewhon in Los Angeles—until they blacklisted him. Months later, with professional labels, his products landed on their shelves.
“If you’re serving from the heart, the universe opens doors,” Prescott said.