Not done...

In January, my husband and I celebrated 3 years of sobriety. I am a recovering Meth addict. Every time I watch "Celebrity Rehab" I see a little bit of myself in each of the patients, but especially in this last episode (Season 3's "Family Weekend".)
I look back on pictures of when I was younger and think, "How did this happen?" and it tears me up inside.
I grew up as a Preacher's Kid, my dad is an Evangelist and our family sang together in a Southern Gospel group so we traveled a lot. I knew right from wrong.
At about the age of 7, my sister and I found out we were adopted, and I think that is when we started crumbling. By the time I was 13, my sister had already moved out of the house and in with someone else. The next year, I met our biological parents and confusion really set in. When I was 15, my sister moved back. I remember nights where she was vomiting from being hung over and the stories she told me of being raped and drugged. Then I got sent away to a place called "Cal Farley's Girlstown, U.S.A." It is a place for troubled teens, but I didn't think I was troubled - my sister was and I had to take her place. I harbored ill feelings for that, and to a certain extent, still do. When I graduated, I moved back home. In 2 years, I found myself at my boyfriend's friend's house, smoking marijuana. Shortly after that, we went to a Dallas night club (rave scene) where I tried ecstasy. My boyfriend was abusive and he would put a pillow over my head and punch it, he'd get in my face cussing at me, he even raped me. He even pimped me out - I became a prostitute. I didn't want to, but it was either be a prostitute or get beat. One day, after we had broken up, he convinced me to try "liquid ecstasy." I threw up from excitement. We started smoking and I wound up smoking most by myself, with him laughing and telling me to smoke until it felt like I was rolling, then to smoke more.
That night, I had an appointment with a client - my ex boyfriend's boss. I kept blacking out and I was even convulsing at one point. When I left, my ex came to pick me up, then took me deep into Dallas to a porn store.
I remember walking in, buying a few things then going to "watch some pornography" in the private rooms. Once we got through the first two doors into the dark hallway, we saw a man who was wearing only his socks, standing in a doorway, rubbing on himself. My ex told him that if he paid for the movie, he could watch us have sex. The man quickly grabs his clothes and follows us into a room. I was told to take off my clothes and when I did, I blacked out. I woke up dazed on the floor. This continued on through the night. I felt sick, so I went to the bathroom and shoved my hand down my throat, trying to make myself throw up. When I couldn't throw up, I went back to find my ex. He led me into a room full of naked men, all stroking themselves. He told them that if they paid for the movie, they could watch us have sex. I remember being naked, having sex and looking over to see a man with bumps on his penis reaching out to touch me. I said, "Don't let him touch me," then I blacked out. When we left, I was drenched in sweat. I tried to call in to work the next day, but I had to come in. My ex promised he'd drive me, but when he didn't, I had to drive myself. I honestly don't know how I got to work without getting killed.