A barrio in Orange County, a childhood of "purple-lipped" relatives and the sudden, electric boom of a glass of sherry wine. Angie D. describes a life spent as a "walking bust," drifting from the girls' reformatory to a series of marriages with men she once mistook charisma for psychosis. She speaks of the "madness inside," a void she tried to fill with burglary, white pills with crosses on them, and a bottle that turned her into a monster who terrified her own children.
After a failed suicide attempt left her enraged and alone in a cold water shack, a lady from the PTA led her to the rooms. She didn't find the words first; she found the "music of AA"—the belly laughter and the shine in the eyes of people who had also been kicked in the teeth by life. Through the guidance of a Higher Power and the grit of the steps, she moved from being a "taker and a loser" to a messenger, learning that the only way out of the pit is to stay connected.
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