“I grew up in Fairhope during my early years. We lived on ten acres and played outside all the time. I didn’t realize we were poor until I went to school. My parents divorced when I was young. Moving around with my mother and going from school to school stunted me socially. It was nerve-wracking to start over and over again. I couldn’t stay with the same set of friends, so what was the point in getting to know anyone?

There was turmoil wherever we lived. Every husband or boyfriend that mom had was either a drug dealer, made drugs or did drugs. There were a lot of toxic relationships, arrests, cops and domestic violence. There was sexual abuse, emotional abuse and physical abuse towards me. We had a militant stepfather for a while. I didn’t know why I got the whippings, but I remember feeling like nothing I did was okay.

I imploded on myself at about eight years old. If anyone tried to talk with me, I shut down. I went blank and couldn’t talk even if I wanted to. It was hard to connect. I found alcohol and friends in high school, but I played a part because I always felt different and that I had something to hide. I had a boyfriend in high school who came from a good family and his parents loved me. They took us to Europe and the Bahamas. I was the daughter they never had and they bought me my first car. But I could never let myself be adored by them. I thought I didn’t deserve them and I couldn’t be the person they wanted me to be.

I was irritated with the people who saw good in me and tried to get too close. I was a runner and a jumper with jobs and friendships. I know I hurt a lot of people in the process.

I graduated from Daphne High School and started doing cocaine and ecstasy, but it was never enough. I never found the peace and belonging I needed. At 33, I started taking opiates. They calmed me down and gave me confidence.

I was a bartender and started a photography business. I made a lot of money and spent it all on drugs. I shot family portraits and weddings while I was high.

I couldn’t get far enough away from myself. Everywhere I went, Angela was there. Life was impulsive and animalistic. My fight or flight response was so quick that there was no thought process. I had two dogs that were with me through all of this for 14 years. My little dog got into a fight and her eyeball popped out. I stole some checks to pay the vet. I went to jail for the forged checks.

I had started shoplifting at a young age trying to get clothes to fit in and make myself look normal. That first time in jail wasn’t enough to stop stealing.

I was homeless and sleeping in my car with my dogs. Life spiraled downward with shoplifting, felonies and breaking into homes for shelter and then for drug money. The first place I broke into was my grandma’s house. She died, and they hadn’t sold the house yet. It was the safest place I knew because my grandmother lived in the same house for 40 years. It was the only place in my life that was constant. I got good at popping locks and breaking into houses became a hobby and a way to survive.

A meth addiction took me to even darker places. I walked around New Orleans for three weeks daring the world to do its worst and swallow me. I camped outside the bus or train stations at night trying to keep warm. There was a hard freeze one night and a friend picked me up and took me to his friend’s house. I stayed there for a couple of days then robbed her of a bunch of stuff. I couldn’t help myself.

Survival was all I knew. I lost everything and hit rock bottom many times. I used to be like one of those punching clowns that goes all the way down after you hit it and pops right back up. My life was rock bottom, then back up. Over and over.

I was doing an ungodly amount of drugs to the point where if I overdosed I was angry when I woke up the next day. I was hopeless and didn’t see a way out. I was ready for it to end.

I had a near-deadly fight with my abusive boyfriend. He had me on the ground choking me. I snapped and did a weird street fighter move and pulled two knives on him. I got out before it went farther. Barefoot, I walked and walked until the police stopped me. I handed them my purse with drugs inside and asked them to take me to jail.

The cops were my way out and away from my boyfriend. In 2018, I went to jail for two months in Baldwin County. It wasn’t easy, but it would be the last time. I started reading the Bible and wrote my goals for a better life. I sensed there was something more for me, but I didn’t know what it was.

I left jail and immediately went to rehab for three months at Home of Grace in Eight Mile. I finished the 90-day program and stayed for the graduate program. Within a month I was running the kitchen and serving as a house mother. I was also a part of the first class of women from Home of Grace that went to Ransom ReProgram. I am now the Director of Education for Ransom ReProgram and help others through their own dark times.

There was no going back because there was nothing to go back to. When everything was hopeless, there was always God. He grew and stretched me and I no longer defeat myself. I now have people around me who won’t let me sink.”

Angela

_____________________________________________
The Our Southern Souls book is now available for presale and makes a great Christmas gift. Shipping is free for presales through December 11. Order here: https://bookstore.dmclients.com/our-southern-souls/