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Real Stories. Real Support. Real Community.
The power of peer support can be seen in the lives of the people we serve every
day. Throughout June, we'll be sharing stories from members, volunteers, peer coaches,
and community leaders whose lives have been impacted by connection, support, and recovery. These stories remind us that recovery happens in many different ways, but one
thing remains constant
Recovery Happens Together.
Adam Spencer - Peer Spokane
My struggle with addiction started at a very young age. I’ve done seventeen years in prison and countless trips to rehab. Through a power greater than myself and lots of support from people at Peer Spokane, I have TWO years clean.
I live a life of an Overcomer. I never think twice about how easily I could fall back into addiction; the skills that I’ve learned have helped me not to do that.
Taking the peer support class through Peer Spokane helped a lot with tools to overcome addiction and help those in this world become successful in recovery. My life wasn’t always easy, and I still have my struggles, but today I’ll overcome those struggles without the use of drugs.
This is a beautiful life that we live when we give it the opportunity that we deserve. Thank you for allowing me to share a little bit of my story.
Dionne Jefferson - Peer Seattle
I was thirty-eight when I finally understood that survival wasn’t the same thing as living.
For years, I told myself the drinking was manageable, that everyone had their vices, that taking the edge off was normal. I told myself his temper wasn’t that bad, that the good days meant something, that love was supposed to hurt sometimes. I repeated those lies until they carved grooves in my mind deep enough to fall into every night. The bottle helped blur the edges. His apologies helped me pretend. And I kept breathing in that dim, narrow life because I didn’t
know there could be anything else.
The night everything shattered wasn’t even the worst one. It was just the first time I saw myself clearly—my reflection in the bathroom mirror, mascara streaked, cheek swollen, a half-empty bottle on the floor beside me. Something in me went still, very quiet, like the eye of a storm. I didn’t cry. I didn’t shout. I just realized that if I stayed, I’d eventually disappear completely. Not all at once, but piece by piece, until nothing was left but someone he’d shaped in fear and someone the alcohol kept numb.
Leaving wasn’t brave so much as necessary. I packed a bag, called a hotline, and walked out the door without looking back. My hands shook so hard I could barely turn the key in the ignition, but I kept going. At the shelter, they spoke to me gently, like I was something fragile that deserved care. It took weeks for me to believe them. In those first days of sobriety, every emotion hit like a tidal wave—guilt, anger, grief, relief. I didn’t know how to exist without numbing myself. I didn’t know who I was without him, either.
Recovery has been slow and uneven. Some mornings I wake up strong and steady. Others, I still feel the old instincts tugging at me—the urge to hide, to reach for something that promises silence. But I’ve learned that healing isn’t a straight line; it’s a mosaic built from small choices: attending meetings, answering texts from the women who became my lifeline, letting myself cry, letting myself hope. I started journaling, then walking, then daring to imagine a future where I wasn’t afraid of my own shadow.
Now, when I look in the mirror, the woman staring back isn’t the ghost I used to see. She has scars, yes, and eyes that have seen too much—but she’s also alive in a way she never was before. I’m still learning, still rebuilding, still choosing myself one day at a time. And for the first time in years, I’m not surviving. I’m becoming.
Haylee Moldenhauer - Peer Kent
For 443 days, I’ve been free from the bondage of fentanyl, meth, and benzodiazepines. Well, from any mind and mood-altering substance, actually. And I never in all of my 16 years of using, jail, suicide attempts, and living the most selfish life imaginable, could I have envisioned that I’d make it a month clean, let alone a year. I’d never wanted it badly enough before.
On September 9th, 2024, I made the decision to change, with a little help pushing me in the right direction. I was 9 months pregnant, homeless, living in my car with my boyfriend, and no one wanted anything to do with me. I’d burnt all bridges! I hadn’t received any medical care for the pregnancy and had no idea what was going to come of my child, let alone myself. And in the throes of addiction, how could I have cared?
For months, I’d cry and pray and beg God to help me find a way out of the nightmare that my life had become, but it was easier said than done. Finally, I was going into labor and scared as can be. I went into the Swedish medical center and had a feeling that this was finally the end of my suffering. I gave birth to a healthy baby boy (thank God), and had to make the tough decision to give him up while I got my act together. I was offered a bed at a PPW inpatient detox and rehab for pregnant/post-partum women, and I accepted. I learned, thrived, and started to truly feel good and like myself again for the first time in so long! I wanted more of that feeling; I had to keep going.
Eventually, I graduated. I interviewed and got accepted at an Oxford house, got a sponsor, got involved in service, worked the steps through completion, and kept attending IOP, even after I was no longer required.
Shortly after, I got my own apartment, and FINALLY got my son back! I felt so horrible for missing out on so much of his first 6 months of his life, but I’m just so thankful that it wasn’t any longer than that!
Today, I am scheduled to take my written and oral exam after my training to become a Peer Specialist, so that I can finally give back and help those who were in a position similar to mine. I live a structured, stable life with friends I’ve made that I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for my recovery. I’m a completely different person, and I finally love who I see in the mirror. My son will never have to remember the hell of having an addict for a mother, as long as I keep doing what I’m doing. And I don’t intend to stop!
If you’re ready for change, and you’ve TRULY had enough- then you’ll do everything it takes to get to where you want to be. And I promise there’s nothing more rewarding or fulfilling than conquering your demons and exploring all the possibilities and opportunities that will be afforded to you in recovery!
One day at a time!
Stacy Bunsey - Peer Olympia
My name is Stacy Bunsey, and this is my story. It started at 5 years old. My family and I were in a fire, and I lost my family. I became a ward of the state and entered into foster care. By the time I was 13, I had been in 36 foster homes. I was in and out of homeless shelters and mental institutions. I started developing schizoaffective bipolar. I started stripping at 18 years old, and that is when I began using cocaine. I soon started selling it to other dancers at the club, and I dated a guy, who became my baby daddy, who was a big-time drug dealer out of Alaska. Then I had my first son, and I tried to do the right thing for my son. Soon, he entered state custody.
I started fighting for my son while he was in CPS custody. While my son's CPS case was still open, I got pregnant with my daughter.
I was in and out of rehabilitation centers because of my drug use. This is also how I lost my daughter. CPS tied the two cases together and slipped my daughter through my son's case because she was so young. I had to put her up for adoption because CPS was going to take her anyway. I lost custody of both of my children. Instead of staying healthy and clean and trying to be in recovery, I continued to do drugs to deal with the heartbreak and pain. When I was 24, I entered my first prison sentence, which was a 1 to 4-year sentence. I had 12 burglaries and 12 credit card frauds. This was in Las Vegas, Nevada. In my first year, I escaped prison with a deadly weapon. I was caught and had to go back and do a disciplinary sanction. They gave me 6 months and then rolled me up two charges and extended my prison sentence to 9 years. I got out on parole on my last sentence and picked up another case for stolen vehicle charges.
It was a downward spiral for me. I had to go back to prison and do another 1 to 4 years. Then I got paroled again and picked up another charge. This cycle continued many times. I racked up so many stolen vehicle charges that they wanted to give me 10 years in prison, but I beat that case. I picked up more charges again. I left parole and later went to Oklahoma, where I was still using drugs and involved with prostitution. I picked up another stolen vehicle charge in 2015, where I almost killed a police officer, and if you Google my name, you'll find it because it went viral. I was facing 30, but I beat that case and got 7 years. I did 5 years in Oklahoma, and I was on crystal meth the entire time. They rolled me up because I was on parole and transferred me back to Nevada, and I had to finish out my sentence, which was 8 months. I was still getting high on Nevada's yard. I got out January 1st of 2020. Nevada doesn't believe in rehabilitation. I was homeless and trying to find my way.
I moved to Washington, where I have been receiving a lot of help because Washington believes in rehabilitation, and I started getting help from Peer Olympia. I completed my drug treatment program. I took my Certified Peer Counseling Course and got certified. I haven't been able to find a job because of my criminal background, even though I have a ton of lived experience in this field. My felonies are escape with a deadly weapon and assault with a deadly weapon, among many other charges. I say these things because I want you to keep going. I pray I get blessed with an opportunity to find work and be employed. I have so much to give to others in the mental health, addiction, homelessness, and re-entry, among other things.
Please don't give up. Even when my son committed suicide, I didn't allow myself to go back out. Instead, I used it to fuel the fire within me. My son's death gave me even more incentive to stay clean because he faced the same issues as I did. I wasn't there for him, and I know that. That is one of the main reasons I stay on this path. I've been clean since being released in January of 2020. Keep going even when there doesn't seem to be a way out. I'm so grateful to be here today and thankful to Peer Olympia for being a part of my support system.
