The critically acclaimed memoir of one woman's addiction to drugs and her struggle to get clean. Lydon, a journalist who wrote for the New York Times Magazine and Rolling Stone, delivers a riveting and ultimately triumphant story--a testament to the resilience of the human body and spirit.
My beloved aunt Susan wrote this memoir. I loved reading this book. She was a wonderful writer who was able to tell her story in an honest, funny, and beautiful way. I miss her.
Couldn't put it down, until the recovery. Why is it that once they recover I don't like them quite as much? I don't like to think about what this must say about me...
This is a fascinating read. It was incredible she survived all of this… but also a fascinating time in history with feminism and media and drugs. She tells the tale well without sugar coating the details, and not seeking pity.
Incredibly powerful story of the most virile case of addiction I've ever read about. The first half is tough to get through because it's largely speedy narrative, discursive and lacks a certain diversity of style--reads more like an historian's recounting of twenty, thirty years, which is a choice the writer took I imagine based on the fact that she has little independent memory of scenes or dialogue to support those years. But once Lydon gets into the active addiction part, the Manhattan years, the story takes off. Lucid, dry, completely unsentimental, this is a huge tribute to a woman who was worse off than any of her compatriots, who whored, stole, lied and beat her body to the bones with drugs, and made it back out. The other thing I love about this book is that it's completely secular--she does not promote any particular "brand" of recovery, simply telling how things appeared for her. I get so sick of 12-steppers who drink the Kool-Aid and spout Bill W. gospel for years before they reclaim their own personalities.
This is one of those books that needs to be read more than once to fully feel what's happening. So much material is covered in so little text that it's up to the reader to pause to contemplate what this actually could have meant for any human being. It inspired me to begin to clean up my act after a full surge of addictive behavior, none of which involved drugs or alcohol, but which was just as insidious a toxin to the spirit and future of my own soul, as Lydon's was to hers. I only wish I was half as brave as this woman, who lived and worked in my neighborhood at the end of her life, and who was known by many of my friends. A secret gem.
I read this after thoroughly enjoying her knitting/spiritual books. It was pretty rough, especially to get into it. It would definitely be triggering to anyone who is in substance abuse recovery, and possibly also to survivors of abuse or incest. That said, her writing is lyrical and engaging, and she's likeable even at her lowest points. I probably would not read this again, as I have with her other books, but it was definitely a good read.
One of the roughest stories of addiction I have read. I thought the author did a little too much name dropping at times making her seem a bit conceited but I was pulling for her recovery. Sadly she has since died of cancer but her battle to reach sobriety was impressive.
While I did not care much for her writing style which, for the bulk of the book, was rather disconnected from what certainly must have been a torturous life, I was mesmerized by her story, pulling for her to rise above and survive.