
When news broke that Hayden Panettiere’s death had been ruled an accidental overdose involving fentanyl and other substances, many people were stunned. Hailey, a graduating participant in our program, wasn’t surprised, and she wasn’t distant from it either.
“Stuff like that is so scary, because you can be someone homeless on the street or you can have all the money in the world, and fentanyl doesn’t discriminate,” she said. “It’s silent, because a lot of people don’t know it’s laced with something.”
She was 12 when she first used drugs. Like a lot of kids, she didn’t see the danger. “I thought it was just what teenagers did,” Hailey said. “I thought I was just having fun.”
Over the years, her use escalated and her life unraveled. She lost her home, her job and her car.
The night she didn’t see coming
At 23, while pregnant, Hailey bought Xanax from a stranger at a bar. She remembers almost nothing after that, just waking up in an ambulance after being given Narcan.
“I just woke up hyperventilating. I was sweating. It felt like I was in a nightmare,” she said. “It turns out the Xanax bars were pressed with fentanyl.”
Her experience is more common than many people realize. Pills that look like prescription medication can be counterfeit and contain fentanyl. Hailey estimates that “like 80 percent” of the people she knows were surprised to learn fentanyl was in what they were using. That number is her own estimate, but it reflects what she’s seen.
Why it was so hard to walk away
After that overdose, Hailey says, fentanyl was easy to find. “I said I wanted to get high, and I just got it. It’s accessible anywhere.”
She also remembers how fast it took hold. “I’ve tried a lot of drugs, but fentanyl was the absolute strongest drug I have ever tried, and I instantly got hooked.”
She doesn’t mince words about where it could have ended. “If I didn’t come to treatment here at Santa Maria, fentanyl would have taken me.”
Treatment number eight, and what changed
When Hailey came back to Santa Maria, it was her eighth time in treatment. This time, she asked for help because she was afraid for her life. “I said, ‘I need to go to treatment. I’m going to die.’”
Through the care and support of her team, something shifted. One piece of advice from her counselor changed how she thought about her own recovery: “Don’t focus on why you keep relapsing. Focus on why you can’t stay sober.”
“That one simple sentence shifted my whole perspective on my recovery,” Hailey said.
Once she stopped asking why she kept relapsing, she began to see what she had been running from. “I was running from me,” she said. She had never truly let go of the person she became while she was surviving, and this time she did. “I can’t run from me, because anywhere I go, I take me with me.”
Building something new
Today, Hailey lives in Santa Maria’s recovery housing, with the structure and accountability she says she never had after previous treatment programs. She’s focused on a future for herself and her children.
“I’m ready to be the cycle breaker,” she said. “I’m ready to start making a new life for me and my children and a new generation.”
According to the Texas Department of State Health Services, fentanyl-related deaths fell 46% between 2023 and 2025. That’s real progress, and Haley’s story is a reminder of why prevention and accessible treatment still matter.
Her message to anyone who is still using is one of hope, with a practical step to stay alive. She encourages people to use fentanyl test strips, because “it’s becoming a silent epidemic.”
“People don’t deserve to die just because they’re using drugs,” she said. “Just because you’re not ready right now doesn’t mean you’re worthy of death. You’re worthy of a good life, whether you’re ready for it now or not.”



After maintaining sobriety for several years, Angel moved from her Houston home base to Galveston, away from her recovery support. Knowing she needed mental health assistance, she attempted to get prescribed medication from a community resource. Without coordination and despite her past, she was given a drug in the same family as one of her former drugs of choice and a cocktail of other prescriptions. She was over-medicated and all she wanted to do was sleep, 18 hours a day.
Laura entered Santa Maria on July 4, pregnant, making a decision that she would break her addiction and bring a healthy baby into this world. Drug and alcohol were all she knew as a child, as her mother had been active in her addiction throughout this time. As Laura matured, she continued the pattern. She had lost everything to drugs, but she wasn’t willing to lose this child.
Kerri was born in Marble Falls, Texas. Although she lived in this beautiful small town, her childhood was anything but idyllic. Her father lost custody of her at the age of 2, and she was sent to live with her mother, a woman struggling with a meth addiction. Soon after, her father took his own life. Kerri’s early years were tumultuous, and she was often neglected.
RECOVERY ROOTS
LaNisha’s story starts with trauma. When she was just two years old, her father was murdered; later her mother whom for years suffered from addiction to substances was incarcerated. Once moved to live with her grandparents and younger sibling, she was again faced with continued violence, drug abuse, neglect, and gambling on her grandparents’ side, followed by repeatedly being molested by a family member. Living in such an unsafe environment caused LaNisha’s spirit to sink and feel despair.
Nicole followed in her mother’s footsteps, she learned to close her feelings off working long hours and withdrawing from her family. This was not the first time she had lived her life this way. She put in many hours every day at her restaurant job and then socialized occasionally. Soon, like times in the past, she began to drink heavily and use cocaine with “friends”. She felt very alone.
April Dawn was born in a small town in the hills of southeastern Kentucky, given a name that illuminated the light, beauty, and joy of a newborn’s arrival to the world. Somehow, her infancy and childhood became, instead, a nightmare of abuse that left her scarred permanently and alone with her pain and humiliation. April’s parents did not offer love and protection, but were responsible for her abuse. At the age of four, she was hospitalized for six months to heal internal wounds. At 13, she was “sold” to a man that took her away from her home and married her with parental consent. The time in between was a constant story of abuse at the hands of those who were supposed to guide her growth, treasure her spirit. There was no intervention.
“Loving and forgiving yourself is necessary to change your life”, states Courtney Mendoza, a 29 year old Santa Maria Alumna. Growing up with parents who struggled with addiction, Courtney witnessed the negative effects of addiction throughout her childhood, to the point where she was taken away from her parents by Child Protective Services (CPS) during middle