When I was little I was physically abused by my father. My mom took me and my little sisters out of that situation when he went to prison for child molestation. He was also an alcoholic and drug addict. I was 9 when we moved to Fresno.

Fresno completely changed my life.

I became someone who didn't care about anything. By the time I was 12, I was skipping school and smoking weed on occasion. Then on Dec 19, 1999, I went to a party and got completely drunk and enjoyed it. So I continued drinking almost daily.

In May of 2000, I smoked Meth or Crank (as it was called then) for the first time. I was 13-almost-14. I loved the high so much; I smoked so much that I didn't sleep for two weeks straight. I loved the energy boost and the fact that I didn't eat and was losing weight. I was always a heavy-set girl.

I continued smoking almost everyday for the next three years. I got pregnant with my first son at 16. I stayed clean during my whole pregnancy with the help of my son's father. You would think, "Oh well after 9 months sober, I can stay sober". That was not the case -- two days later I was getting high again. Crystal meth had surfaced and it was stronger and I was hooked. As soon as I turned 18, I moved out of my mom's place with my son's dad.

Everything went downhill.

We started cheating on each other. I lost my job. I would leave my son with my mom for weeks at a time so he wasn't around me while I was high. I figured I was doing what was best because I couldn't stop getting high. So I basically abandoned my son for the drugs. Me and my son's dad were always fighting and it became physical. I was always hanging out with my dealers, also known as the guys I was sleeping with. I was out running the streets all the time. The cops were always watching my house because of the traffic.

This continued for years. I was doing about a ball a day -- which is about $80 a day. I lied, cheated, and manipulated. I started dating this crazy guy because it made it easier to get drugs. I ended up pregnant, but this time I couldn't stop. I had absolutely no moral support and I didn't want the baby so I just kept getting high. Seven months into my pregnancy, my boyfriend held a knife to my throat and threatened to kill me because he decided the baby wasn't his. My best friend (oldest son's father) came to my rescue. He made me promise to get out of there and straighten out my life. He had me call my older sister, who I haven't spoke to in at least a year. She came and picked me up that same day and I haven't touched meth since. My son stayed with his dad.

I honestly thought that I had nobody who cared for me. I didn't care about myself, so why should anybody care about me. I was ashamed of myself and I couldn't face anybody in my family. Turned out there are people who care. I am now living in southern California. I have both of my kids, who I adore and love more than life itself. I have my own place. Im trying to get my diploma. Life is hard but it is so worth it.

I know people out there have had it way worse than me. I pray for you all. I know it's hard. It's been almost three years and I still don't know if I am strong enough to say "no" if it was put in front of me.