Hello, family. My name is Aundrea Inman, and like many of you, I’m an addict in recovery. I’ve been clean since December 23rd, 2025—almost two years now. Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I’m sending love and strength to everyone on this path.

If you’re reading this, you probably know how addiction doesn’t care about who you are or where you come from. We’ve all seen how it can take hold of anyone. Addiction isn’t about weakness or a lack of morals—it’s a disease that can break us down, but it doesn’t have to define us.

This is my story, honestly told—from the chaos and pain to the hope I’ve found in recovery.

I grew up surrounded by addiction and dysfunction. My biological mother was addicted to crack, and my father battled alcoholism. Chaos was normal for me from the very start.

My only biological brother and I stuck together—we were just babies, 27 and 18 months old. We were adopted into another home, but addiction and dysfunction followed us there, along with two adopted sisters and a younger adopted brother.

My adopted dad started me on weed, and abused me—sexually and physically. My adopted mom wouldn’t believe me when I told her. She called me crazy, said I was schizophrenic, even though I never had symptoms. When I tried to tell doctors about the abuse, I think my mom convinced them I was making it up—especially since I was in the psych ward at the time.

When my family came to visit, I told them I couldn’t see them anymore. I’d told my mom so many times about the abuse, but she always swore my dad would never do something like that. That kind of denial hurts more than most people realize.

There were eleven counts of sexual abuse reported by kids my parents fostered. My mom enabled my dad by staying silent—her denial was its own kind of abuse. My dad died in prison from cancer, serving time for violating probation on his sex offender charges. I finally spoke up to a teacher in tenth grade, right in the middle of summer school while she was doing my makeup.

I spent two years in foster care before getting emancipated and moving back in with my mom. I didn’t stay long. I ended up in Springfield, Missouri, and that’s where my addiction really took hold. I’m still here today, but everything’s different now.

The first time I tried meth, I shot up. That first hit started a cycle I couldn’t break. I got into sex work to pay for my habit. My use got out of control—once a day turned into three or four, running from place to place, chasing a high I could never quite reach. I started to hate everyone, but mostly myself, for what my life had become.

That was my routine, day in and day out, starting at 17—with older men, sometimes males my age. I cut off my family, except for one call to my mom when I really needed something. I didn’t want her tangled in my mess. I hurt everyone I cared about, but back then, all I wanted was to make the pain stop. Meth numbed me, but it messed with my mind too. I had full-blown psychotic episodes, seeing things that weren’t real and doing things I can’t even admit here. I’ve got a lot of regrets, but I’m finally facing them now, working through the feelings instead of running from them.

Now, I’m a mom to two beautiful little girls—one is four, the other just 10 months and born premature. I used the whole time I was pregnant with my oldest, and I kept using for three more years after she was born. My rock bottom was in a trap house, shooting up in filth, no running water, just surviving day to day.

Jail saved my life. I spent a year locked up, and I think that’s when my Higher Power finally got through to me. When I got out, I slipped for a couple weeks, but then it hit me—if I didn’t change, I was going to lose everything. I gave recovery another shot. I slipped once in 2024 and smoked a blunt, but I don’t call that a relapse—I call it a lesson learned. Being sober is hard, but it’s possible. A 120-day treatment program helped me start over, and I haven’t looked back. Choosing recovery is the best thing I’ve ever done.

If you or someone you know is struggling with substance use, help is available. You can find resources and support through the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357)