Dad killed Mom with a baseball bat.

Final Four athlete with an egomania problem.

VP for CBS Records. Buds with Michael Jackson. But still empty.

Dad’s affair at church left me bitter.

Asked God to kill my husband.

Suicidal in a wheelchair.

Loved after my abortion.

My Jewish father disowned me, didn’t speak to me for 26 years.

This atheist demanded logical answers.

L.A. gangs, guns, home invasions.

I was the watchman for athlete-cheerleader trysts.

A bright light entered the room as I lay dying.

Partying was my religion.

Musical fame, but a $70K per year drug habit.

I was shocked. They were genuine.

Hundreds of gay hook ups did not satisfy.

Mother of five. Manufacturer of meth.

Prostituted myself for drugs.

This “spiritual icon” needed to fix himself.

Long hair and guitars are of the devil?

He was 60. I was 14.

In the studio with Mick Jagger.

Football, parties, girls. Everything I needed.

Dad put me on his knee, then I never saw him again.

Prostituted myself for drugs.

Followed my comedian dad toward death by heroin.

Prayed to Satan, God, Buddha—whoever.

Date-raped. Pregnant.

Survived grenade and bullet wounds, but not the nightmares.

Social services removed me from our home.

Life . . . or a paycheck?

Headed for the NFL, and then . . .

Had a baby by my foster father.

Very rich and very addicted.

Low self esteem, depressed, suicidal by middle school.

From corporate jets to food stamps.

Picked up by a stranger. Forever changed.

Had an affair. Got a divorce.

Mother of five. Manufacturer of meth.

Charged with over 100 felonies.

Shoot out with the police.

Chased by a narcotics agent.

People pleaser.

Porn and adultery destroyed my marriage.

Hundreds of gay hook ups did not satisfy.

My party friends were becoming an issue.

Rejected and beaten by a man.

My life—partying and friends.

I loved crack cocaine.

Being gang-raped at age four marred my sexual identity.

I put $15,000 on Dad’s credit card.

I was shocked. They were genuine.

Musical fame, but a $70K per year drug habit.

I shut down my yoga commune.

Partying was my religion.

Feared death and hated blacks.

Cops were everywhere.

Sold my soul to the Devil.

A bright light entered the room as I lay dying.

Stole my kids’ toys to buy meth and cocaine.

I was the watchman for athlete-cheerleader trysts.

Angry. Who do I blame?

L.A. gangs, guns, home invasions.

This atheist demanded logical answers.

My Jewish father disowned me, didn’t speak to me for 26 years.

Loved after my abortion.

Suicidal in a wheelchair.

Asked God to kill my husband.

Dad’s affair at church left me bitter.

Winning an NBA ring with Dr. J was not my greatest moment.

Owned a head shop. Loved booze.

VP for CBS Records. Buds with Michael Jackson. But still empty.

Dad led the way.

Rich and macho on the outside.

I knew I didn’t have what it takes.

Reverse peer pressure.

Early abuse caused later fear and anger.

Verbally abused.

When the preacher said Jesus Christ, I thought he was cussing.

Final Four athlete with an egomania problem.

Dad killed Mom with a baseball bat.