I was moving around twenty, thirty, sometimes forty pounds of marijuana a month. I was eighteen years old. I had money. I had friends.
By the time I was nineteen, I was extremely bitter, angry, volatile … violent. I had become a kleptomaniac I was addicted to stealing everything around me. I was heavily on drugs and had really pushed everybody out of ...
There’s some sort of hole in your heart that you're still trying to get filled. You wish your Dad had said some wonderful things.
I was realizing that more of my identity was wrapped up in the NFL and in quarterbacking than in who God says I am, my worst moment of life converted to my very best moment of life in a matter of fifteen seconds.
"While I thought that they were special things, my husband at the time found that journal and thought it was really weird, really strange, and told me that I was really weird."
I was the sixth of seven children. I was molested from the time I was two or three years old until I was six or seven.
Without ever hearing him say a word he spoke to me. He said, “I am the fifth fallen angel. You’ve served me well, and you will serve me again.”
"He did cross the line, and I became a victim of what we now know as date rape. Thirty years ago that's really not what it was called. Since I did go into the bedroom with the guy, I blamed myself for many years..."
One of the women was a employee at work. The Board of Directors called me in. After questioning me about this they terminated my employment, effective immediately.
"I was the girl on top of the bar with money being put on me, not remembering any of it the next morning."