We admitted we were powerless over our problems and that our lives had become unmanageable.

I don't really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do what I hate. ... Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?

ROMANS 7:15, 24

Andrea's Story of Recovery: Getting Out of the Insanity

Many years of insanity finally brought me to where I am today. I could not seem to break the cycle. To my way of thinking, I had to do it all myself. I had to somehow, someway, pull myself out of the dark abyss of alcoholism. I tried every which way I could, but I could not do it. Then, in February 2007, my life started over.

My story is not unique. My childhood, sadly, was not unique. It was abusive—physically, mentally, emotionally, and sexually. All that stuff. If you've been there, you know it creates heartache and pain that don't subside. That's where the drugs came in and took me out of where I didn't want to be.

I started using drugs when I was twelve years old. The first thing I ever tried was a hit of acid, and it was on from there because it made me laugh and feel free, and I knew that's what I wanted. And so, from twelve years on, my life revolved around drugs in one way or another. Still, I was known as a good girl. I lived a dual life. At home I tried to be the peacekeeper, tried not to allow all the craziness to go on—the upending of dinner tables, the random punches, the pulling of knives. That kind of stuff was everyday life in my household. I learned to be the good girl, and that's why, when I was doing drugs, I had to keep my good-girl face on so nobody would know what I was doing. Trying to be two people at once creates a form of insanity in itself.

I have to admit, I really loved to party. Because I had never had a good time when I was young, whenever I went out as a teenager or a young adult, the party was on. My goals and dreams began to revolve around how I could continue to party and still make something of myself—the good girl and the party girl. Instead of going to college, which would have been way too much work, I went to vocational school for a year and became a certified dental technician. At night, I worked in a bar. I thought I had the best of both worlds—I did well at my job, because that's what I had to do, and I was a great partier. Things seemed to be going really well.

My life went on like that for years. I ended up owning my own company and growing in the business world, but I never reached my full potential. Of course, that's all in retrospect. Now I can see where my decisions were hindered by the drugs and the alcohol and the parties.

My unraveling began when I was thirty-one and became a mother for the first time. I had never had a role model and didn't know how to be a mother. Worse yet, I was an alcoholic mother, with an alcoholic husband. He and I had two children together, but by the time the second baby was three months old, we had split up. I became a single mother of two with a business to run, doing speed to keep me going. And, you know, that just doesn't work. After a while, you run down. There just weren't enough hours in the day to do all the things I needed to do, and there wasn't enough speed to keep me going. On top of that, my judgment was impaired and I made one bad decision after another. When my daughters were four and six, I discovered crack cocaine and I lost my soul. Before long, I had also lost my home, my business, and my kids.

For thirteen years, I ran on the insanity that crack brought into my life, along with all the other crazy things that came from the life I had lived. During that time, I also gave birth to a third daughter. But I did not raise any of my girls. (Thank God for the families that loved my children when I couldn't.) And never once did I come to grips with the fact that I was powerless over my problems and that my life had become unmanageable—even though I was going to recovery meetings throughout those thirteen years. I would get sober for a little while—long enough to get the judge off my back and get my kids and a job—but then I would think, Well, now I can drink. And pretty soon, after a few drinks, I would decide, I'll just smoke a little crack. And, you know, before I knew it, I'd lost my kids again, lost my job, and was right back in the middle of that sick cycle of insanity that we live in as alcoholics and drug addicts.

In 2007, the day finally came when I ran out...