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Strung Out: One Last Hit and Other Lies That Nearly Killed Me
“This vital memoir will change how we look at the opioid crisis and how the media talks about it. A deeply moving and emotional read,
STRUNG OUT
challenges our preconceived ideas of what addiction looks like.”
—Stephanie Land, New York Times bestselling author of Maid
In this deeply personal and illuminating memoir about her fifteen-year struggle with heroin, Khar sheds profound light on the opioid crisis and gives a voice to the over two million people in America currently battling with this addiction.
Growing up in LA, Erin Khar hid behind a picture-perfect childhood filled with excellent grades, a popular group of friends and horseback riding. After first experimenting with her grandmother’s expired painkillers, Khar started using heroin when she was thirteen. The drug allowed her to escape from pressures to be perfect and suppress all the heavy feelings she couldn’t understand.
This fiercely honest memoir explores how heroin shaped every aspect of her life for the next fifteen years and details the various lies she told herself, and others, about her drug use. With enormous heart and wisdom, she shows how the shame and stigma surrounding addiction, which fuels denial and deceit, is so often what keeps addicts from getting help. There is no one path to recovery, and for Khar, it was in motherhood that she found the inner strength and self-forgiveness to quit heroin and fight for her life.
Strung Out is a life-affirming story of resilience while also a gripping investigation into the psychology of addiction and why people turn to opioids in the first place.
—Stephanie Land, New York Times bestselling author of Maid
In this deeply personal and illuminating memoir about her fifteen-year struggle with heroin, Khar sheds profound light on the opioid crisis and gives a voice to the over two million people in America currently battling with this addiction.
Growing up in LA, Erin Khar hid behind a picture-perfect childhood filled with excellent grades, a popular group of friends and horseback riding. After first experimenting with her grandmother’s expired painkillers, Khar started using heroin when she was thirteen. The drug allowed her to escape from pressures to be perfect and suppress all the heavy feelings she couldn’t understand.
This fiercely honest memoir explores how heroin shaped every aspect of her life for the next fifteen years and details the various lies she told herself, and others, about her drug use. With enormous heart and wisdom, she shows how the shame and stigma surrounding addiction, which fuels denial and deceit, is so often what keeps addicts from getting help. There is no one path to recovery, and for Khar, it was in motherhood that she found the inner strength and self-forgiveness to quit heroin and fight for her life.
Strung Out is a life-affirming story of resilience while also a gripping investigation into the psychology of addiction and why people turn to opioids in the first place.
304 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 25, 2020
179 people are currently reading
9127 people want to read
About the author
Erin Khar
3 books146 followersErin Khar is a writer and advocate who has established herself as a respected voice in the national conversation about the drug and overdose epidemic.
Erin's debut memoir, Strung Out, appeared on lists from Apple Books, Goodreads, SELF, The Rumpus, Bitch Media, and others. Of the book, The New York Times writes, "Khar’s buoyant writing doesn’t get mired in her dark subject matter. There is an honesty here that can only come from, to put it in the language of 12-step programs, a 'searching and fearless moral inventory.' This is a story she needed to tell; and the rest of the country needs to listen.”
Her long-running advice column, Ask Erin, lives on Substack and her personal essays have appeared in The Times of London Sunday Magazine, SELF, Marie Claire, Salon, HuffPost, Esquire, Cosmopolitan, and elsewhere.
Erin’s essay, “Guilty,” was published in Burn it Down: Women Writing About Anger. She was the recipient of a 2012 Eric Hoffer Editor's Choice Prize for her story, "Last House at the End of the Street," which was published in the Best New Writing 2012 anthology. In 2023, Erin was the recipient of a Walter E. Dakin fellowship from the Sewanee Writer’s Conference.
When she’s not writing, Erin is probably watching Beverly Hills, 90210. You can follow her on social @ErinKhar everywhere. She lives in New York City.
Erin's debut memoir, Strung Out, appeared on lists from Apple Books, Goodreads, SELF, The Rumpus, Bitch Media, and others. Of the book, The New York Times writes, "Khar’s buoyant writing doesn’t get mired in her dark subject matter. There is an honesty here that can only come from, to put it in the language of 12-step programs, a 'searching and fearless moral inventory.' This is a story she needed to tell; and the rest of the country needs to listen.”
Her long-running advice column, Ask Erin, lives on Substack and her personal essays have appeared in The Times of London Sunday Magazine, SELF, Marie Claire, Salon, HuffPost, Esquire, Cosmopolitan, and elsewhere.
Erin’s essay, “Guilty,” was published in Burn it Down: Women Writing About Anger. She was the recipient of a 2012 Eric Hoffer Editor's Choice Prize for her story, "Last House at the End of the Street," which was published in the Best New Writing 2012 anthology. In 2023, Erin was the recipient of a Walter E. Dakin fellowship from the Sewanee Writer’s Conference.
When she’s not writing, Erin is probably watching Beverly Hills, 90210. You can follow her on social @ErinKhar everywhere. She lives in New York City.
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February 18, 2023
“Addiction spares no one. Making it out is akin to winning the lottery, even when you have the resources and access for help.”
Erin Khar started smoking heroin when she was thirteen years old and used on and off for years until it become a constant thing in her twenties. She used intravenously for a while and added crack and other drugs to the mix. She’s a white woman from a comfortably well-off family. Her first stint in rehab got her clean for a while, but until she dealt with the psychological demons that she was using drugs to obliterate, she didn’t get clean.
The second time she went to rehab was with Dr. Drew. “He was better at explaining addiction to family members than anyone I’d ever heard. He talked about the science of addiction as a brain disorder, He emphasized that addiction was not the result of a moral failing. He explained how childhood trauma was rocket fuel for addiction. He talked about the commonality of the trifecta—childhood trauma, substance use, and a psychiatric disorder.”
I’ve read a fair number of these kind of memoirs, both of alcoholics and drug addicts. I’m always grateful that I never had friends who used any drugs except weed (before it was legal in many states), and that I don’t like getting high. I really enjoyed this one. Khar is aware of her privilege and how if she were black and had been caught with these drugs, her life would likely have gone in a very different trajectory. She never had to sell to support her habit, which is another thing that kept her out of prison. This is a memoir worth reading. Even if you never turned to drugs to avoid dealing with parents who are focused on themselves and not taking care of you, the kid, you can probably identify with the challenges of relationships with parents, friends, boyfriends, and, most significantly, yourself.
Thanks to NetGalley for an advance review of this book.
Erin Khar started smoking heroin when she was thirteen years old and used on and off for years until it become a constant thing in her twenties. She used intravenously for a while and added crack and other drugs to the mix. She’s a white woman from a comfortably well-off family. Her first stint in rehab got her clean for a while, but until she dealt with the psychological demons that she was using drugs to obliterate, she didn’t get clean.
The second time she went to rehab was with Dr. Drew. “He was better at explaining addiction to family members than anyone I’d ever heard. He talked about the science of addiction as a brain disorder, He emphasized that addiction was not the result of a moral failing. He explained how childhood trauma was rocket fuel for addiction. He talked about the commonality of the trifecta—childhood trauma, substance use, and a psychiatric disorder.”
I’ve read a fair number of these kind of memoirs, both of alcoholics and drug addicts. I’m always grateful that I never had friends who used any drugs except weed (before it was legal in many states), and that I don’t like getting high. I really enjoyed this one. Khar is aware of her privilege and how if she were black and had been caught with these drugs, her life would likely have gone in a very different trajectory. She never had to sell to support her habit, which is another thing that kept her out of prison. This is a memoir worth reading. Even if you never turned to drugs to avoid dealing with parents who are focused on themselves and not taking care of you, the kid, you can probably identify with the challenges of relationships with parents, friends, boyfriends, and, most significantly, yourself.
Thanks to NetGalley for an advance review of this book.
February 21, 2020
I absolutely loved "Strung Out: One Last Hit and Other Lies that Nearly Killed Me". My go to genre is always wanting to read memoirs, particularly about addiction, abuse, dysfunctional families, or other obstacles that the author can overcome. This is the first one I have ever read involving heroin and a drug I know very little about except what I have seen on TV. This memoir was also very well written and I had a hard time putting it down to go to bed at night.
Erin Khar struggles with a 15 year addiction. It's brutally honest, personal, and opens the door to how depression and mental illness can just compound these struggles. You get to see the psychology of addiction and how a person with a pretty good childhood and family life can fall into drug use. Erin kicks the habit several times on her own and through rehab, just to go right back to it to escape whatever she was facing in her life at the time. Even though this drug is absolutely terrible, I almost felt like she was one of the luckier ones. She had a very supportive family that never abandoned her (even when she stole and lied to them) and lots of friends that helped her during the darkest hours. She always seemed to have a decent job and plenty of money from her father. Becoming a mother was the catalyst to kicking the addiction for good.
**This book releases on February 25, 2020 and was won through the Goodreads Giveaway. All opinions are my own.**
Erin Khar struggles with a 15 year addiction. It's brutally honest, personal, and opens the door to how depression and mental illness can just compound these struggles. You get to see the psychology of addiction and how a person with a pretty good childhood and family life can fall into drug use. Erin kicks the habit several times on her own and through rehab, just to go right back to it to escape whatever she was facing in her life at the time. Even though this drug is absolutely terrible, I almost felt like she was one of the luckier ones. She had a very supportive family that never abandoned her (even when she stole and lied to them) and lots of friends that helped her during the darkest hours. She always seemed to have a decent job and plenty of money from her father. Becoming a mother was the catalyst to kicking the addiction for good.
**This book releases on February 25, 2020 and was won through the Goodreads Giveaway. All opinions are my own.**
September 3, 2019
This is a brutally honest and yet tender look inside opined addiction. Khar pulls aside the mask of an addict, and neither self-pitying or blaming, delves deep into the personal, social and physical reasons for addiction.
August 12, 2019
This review is for the free, digital ARC from NetGalley. Some parts may not apply to the final publication.
This book was a bit of a letdown. I'm a big fan of memoirs, especially of addiction and mental illness, and at first I enjoyed how it was going: a good jumping off point, well-set scenes, early events told at a fairly surface level that would clearly lead into the rest of the story.
As the book went on, though, it mostly stayed at the surface level. I think in some ways, the amount of writing and reflecting Khar has done on her own history works against her. She doesn't deliver much in the way of searing insights, the kind of details that can make scenes feel emotionally powerful, etc. She simply explains that she hated herself, was depressed, was afraid, etc. and describes the events that occurred as a result, but she doesn't really pull you into the depths of those events.
There are some fairly momentous things that are referenced but not really resolved. While she isn't required to tell us about certain details of her life, it feels strange to repeatedly reference something as potentially the starting moment of all of her problems,. but then sort of casually reference it a few times before letting it fall away entirely. Did she ever get to confront the person? Did her mom ever fully believe her? These are the sorts of questions I would expect to be answered for something like that.
She talks about how she has always been privileged, and that is sure as hell true. Her references to feeling guilty or knowing other people wouldn't have gotten out of the same situations are basically just statements of that: "I know I'm lucky," etc. So seeing her just casually talk about getting awesome sounding new jobs every time she decided to try to work,with no particular details about how, was frustrating. For all her claims of self-awareness and humility, it seemed like she was still taking many things for granted that are astounding to someone who hasn't had the same level of privilege (and I have a fair amount).
The other thing is that she ultimately doesn't have any major consequences, and while she talks about wanting to destigmatize addiction, she didn't really provide descriptions of her inner thoughts or sensations that would make me understand. I'm close to several people who went through awful addictions that hurt me and others in their lives, so seeing her casually recount similar actions - stealing from her family and pawning their valuables, for example - and just say she felt shitty for it, but not talk in a truly intimate or graphic way about what was moving her or even how she eventually made amends, was frustrating. In other words, she laid out events I already knew were common for heroin addicts, but she never helped me get into the mindset to feel true empathy and compassion for someone making those decisions. That, combined with the lack of major consequences and the way she basically decided to get clean and then did it and glossed over how hard that must have truly been, makes me think it would be a particularly ill-advised read for a recovering addict.
Overall, the tone, the types and amounts of detail (more about her wardrobe than the emotional qualities of the people in the story; they mostly got about as much depth as someone in a story you're being told at a party), and the degrees of revelation were about on par with what I would expect from a blog, essay, or advice column. It makes sense, since these are her primary writing formats, but for a book-length story, I'd hoped for a lot more. Some scenes and people didn't seem like they needed to be in there at all, and if those were filtered out, there would be more room to give the other parts and people the attention they need to make it a truly impactful story.
If you've never read a memoir of addiction or mental illness and have never known someone well who has had these struggles, it may be a great book to start with, because it won't horrify you as much as some others could. It's an easy enough read, with some interesting elements (I did enjoy time traveling to the 90s and 2000s), that I wouldn't NOT recommend it. But I definitely won't be telling anyone to put it on their must-read list.
This book was a bit of a letdown. I'm a big fan of memoirs, especially of addiction and mental illness, and at first I enjoyed how it was going: a good jumping off point, well-set scenes, early events told at a fairly surface level that would clearly lead into the rest of the story.
As the book went on, though, it mostly stayed at the surface level. I think in some ways, the amount of writing and reflecting Khar has done on her own history works against her. She doesn't deliver much in the way of searing insights, the kind of details that can make scenes feel emotionally powerful, etc. She simply explains that she hated herself, was depressed, was afraid, etc. and describes the events that occurred as a result, but she doesn't really pull you into the depths of those events.
There are some fairly momentous things that are referenced but not really resolved. While she isn't required to tell us about certain details of her life, it feels strange to repeatedly reference something as potentially the starting moment of all of her problems,. but then sort of casually reference it a few times before letting it fall away entirely. Did she ever get to confront the person? Did her mom ever fully believe her? These are the sorts of questions I would expect to be answered for something like that.
She talks about how she has always been privileged, and that is sure as hell true. Her references to feeling guilty or knowing other people wouldn't have gotten out of the same situations are basically just statements of that: "I know I'm lucky," etc. So seeing her just casually talk about getting awesome sounding new jobs every time she decided to try to work,with no particular details about how, was frustrating. For all her claims of self-awareness and humility, it seemed like she was still taking many things for granted that are astounding to someone who hasn't had the same level of privilege (and I have a fair amount).
The other thing is that she ultimately doesn't have any major consequences, and while she talks about wanting to destigmatize addiction, she didn't really provide descriptions of her inner thoughts or sensations that would make me understand. I'm close to several people who went through awful addictions that hurt me and others in their lives, so seeing her casually recount similar actions - stealing from her family and pawning their valuables, for example - and just say she felt shitty for it, but not talk in a truly intimate or graphic way about what was moving her or even how she eventually made amends, was frustrating. In other words, she laid out events I already knew were common for heroin addicts, but she never helped me get into the mindset to feel true empathy and compassion for someone making those decisions. That, combined with the lack of major consequences and the way she basically decided to get clean and then did it and glossed over how hard that must have truly been, makes me think it would be a particularly ill-advised read for a recovering addict.
Overall, the tone, the types and amounts of detail (more about her wardrobe than the emotional qualities of the people in the story; they mostly got about as much depth as someone in a story you're being told at a party), and the degrees of revelation were about on par with what I would expect from a blog, essay, or advice column. It makes sense, since these are her primary writing formats, but for a book-length story, I'd hoped for a lot more. Some scenes and people didn't seem like they needed to be in there at all, and if those were filtered out, there would be more room to give the other parts and people the attention they need to make it a truly impactful story.
If you've never read a memoir of addiction or mental illness and have never known someone well who has had these struggles, it may be a great book to start with, because it won't horrify you as much as some others could. It's an easy enough read, with some interesting elements (I did enjoy time traveling to the 90s and 2000s), that I wouldn't NOT recommend it. But I definitely won't be telling anyone to put it on their must-read list.
January 28, 2020
I have mixed feelings about this one. The writing is amazing and as always, I admire the author for being brave and telling her story.
Although the author brings us to dark places, she rarely seems accountable for her actions, which is a bit of a disconnect for me.
She is one lucky addict. She never ended up on the street, she never had any diseases from the myriad of men and she basically somehow had money to fly from NYC to LA to Paris.
Nonetheless this was a good read.
Although the author brings us to dark places, she rarely seems accountable for her actions, which is a bit of a disconnect for me.
She is one lucky addict. She never ended up on the street, she never had any diseases from the myriad of men and she basically somehow had money to fly from NYC to LA to Paris.
Nonetheless this was a good read.
May 21, 2020
3.5 stars
If you’re looking for a dark and gritty memoir, this is it. The author shares her descent into opiate addiction that started in her teens and lasted into her 30’s. There was something about this brutally honest account of drug and sex addiction that pushed my comfort limits. The horror of living in addiction and the portrayal of day to day life as an addict - living in perpetual shame -was difficult to read about. The story, at times, felt suffocating and sickening and I had to take a break. When a book pushes one out of their comfort zone, I believe it is a powerful read.
However, this is also a story about privilege, and the main reason it lost stars for me, was its lack of acknowledgement to this end. The author references her wealthy parents, her endless supply of money despite not having a real job, her high society life in Hollywood, and hobnobbing with famous people throughout the book but fails to point out it was this privilege that allowed her to get the opportunities for treatment, support and ongoing therapy that many folks struggling with addiction can’t afford. The author details many reasons for her use of drugs, and paints a vivid picture of what it’s like to live in upper class addiction, but I wish she had included a social justice aspect so that others without wealth and a stable family could better relate.
I received an ARC from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
If you’re looking for a dark and gritty memoir, this is it. The author shares her descent into opiate addiction that started in her teens and lasted into her 30’s. There was something about this brutally honest account of drug and sex addiction that pushed my comfort limits. The horror of living in addiction and the portrayal of day to day life as an addict - living in perpetual shame -was difficult to read about. The story, at times, felt suffocating and sickening and I had to take a break. When a book pushes one out of their comfort zone, I believe it is a powerful read.
However, this is also a story about privilege, and the main reason it lost stars for me, was its lack of acknowledgement to this end. The author references her wealthy parents, her endless supply of money despite not having a real job, her high society life in Hollywood, and hobnobbing with famous people throughout the book but fails to point out it was this privilege that allowed her to get the opportunities for treatment, support and ongoing therapy that many folks struggling with addiction can’t afford. The author details many reasons for her use of drugs, and paints a vivid picture of what it’s like to live in upper class addiction, but I wish she had included a social justice aspect so that others without wealth and a stable family could better relate.
I received an ARC from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
August 3, 2019
Strung out by Erin Khar is a memoir detailing the drug addiction, mental illness, and abuses in the life of the author. The book opens with Khar trying to figure out how to formulate an answer to her own child's question of whether his mother had ever used drugs. Coincidentally, when Khar's twelve-year-old son asks her this question, he is just one year younger than when his mother first used heroin at the age of 13 years of age.
To be honest, while reading this memoir, and others like it, (for example Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking), I have to admit a bias of those of the upper classes when it comes to issues such as substance abuse, nihilistic behaviors and other debilitating life occurrences in their lives. This is not to lessen or besmirch the troubles in the lives of the well to do or to express a belief those well off automatically have trouble-free lives. However, when reading memoirs like this, I tend to think of all of the other hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people lacking the resources, safety nets and opportunities of the upper classes, while wondering who will tell their stories and how their voices are held silent by the tethers of being rooted in the lower socioeconomic shackles of life. And due to the contents of at least the first seventy-five percent of this memoir, those biases were not removed, which made it difficult to finish the memoir.
My main issues with the memoir were the assemblage of the book and how the adage "first impressions are lasting impressions" impacted how Erin Khar was first perceived. With the way the chapters of the memoir were gathered, it was hard to establish empathy with her or feel sympathy toward her. The first parts of the memoir detailed an extravagant lifestyle (brand new cars, jewelry, designer clothes, overseas jaunts, paid for apartments and so on) of what appeared to be the description of a spoiled and petulant young woman, disrespectful of her fortunate socioeconomic standing in life, one of which she had nothing to do with other than being born into it. This then clouded over the power of her experiences and while reading the memoir lessened the impact of her life until reaching the end of the memoir.
To me, to make a memoir such as this resonate, the author must write in a manner that defeats these biases. While reading Strung Out, this did not happen until the very end of the memoir. It is not until the end of the memoir where the reader learns what she has learned and who she has become and what her substance abuse filled life led to later in her life. Though she does sprinkle information through the memoir describing origins of her behavior, it is not until the very end where Khar really connected with this reader and where empathy and sympathy toward her emerged. I would have preferred to have felt that from the beginning and on through the memoir.
To be honest, while reading this memoir, and others like it, (for example Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking), I have to admit a bias of those of the upper classes when it comes to issues such as substance abuse, nihilistic behaviors and other debilitating life occurrences in their lives. This is not to lessen or besmirch the troubles in the lives of the well to do or to express a belief those well off automatically have trouble-free lives. However, when reading memoirs like this, I tend to think of all of the other hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people lacking the resources, safety nets and opportunities of the upper classes, while wondering who will tell their stories and how their voices are held silent by the tethers of being rooted in the lower socioeconomic shackles of life. And due to the contents of at least the first seventy-five percent of this memoir, those biases were not removed, which made it difficult to finish the memoir.
My main issues with the memoir were the assemblage of the book and how the adage "first impressions are lasting impressions" impacted how Erin Khar was first perceived. With the way the chapters of the memoir were gathered, it was hard to establish empathy with her or feel sympathy toward her. The first parts of the memoir detailed an extravagant lifestyle (brand new cars, jewelry, designer clothes, overseas jaunts, paid for apartments and so on) of what appeared to be the description of a spoiled and petulant young woman, disrespectful of her fortunate socioeconomic standing in life, one of which she had nothing to do with other than being born into it. This then clouded over the power of her experiences and while reading the memoir lessened the impact of her life until reaching the end of the memoir.
To me, to make a memoir such as this resonate, the author must write in a manner that defeats these biases. While reading Strung Out, this did not happen until the very end of the memoir. It is not until the end of the memoir where the reader learns what she has learned and who she has become and what her substance abuse filled life led to later in her life. Though she does sprinkle information through the memoir describing origins of her behavior, it is not until the very end where Khar really connected with this reader and where empathy and sympathy toward her emerged. I would have preferred to have felt that from the beginning and on through the memoir.
June 5, 2020
No no no no noooooooo.
I feel a little guilty leaving a bad review for someone who has overcome so much, but this isnt meant to belittle Erin's monumentous accomplishment in becoming sober, it's the gd writing.
HOLY GOD IN HEAVEN.
Reading this was like listening to nails on a chalkboard. Its 97% word vomit: talking just to talk, repeating what was already stated a mere few pages ago, even using the exact same sentences (if I saw the words corpse baby and yellow dress one more time...*shakes fist angrily in the air*). It was incredibly awkward to read, and as a reader, I felt frustrated that so much of what was written wasn't moving the story forward. I skimmed the entire second half.
The bottom line is that there are so many biographies out there on this subject done better. Re: Dreamseller by Brandon Novak and In Deep by Angalia Bianca.
I feel a little guilty leaving a bad review for someone who has overcome so much, but this isnt meant to belittle Erin's monumentous accomplishment in becoming sober, it's the gd writing.
HOLY GOD IN HEAVEN.
Reading this was like listening to nails on a chalkboard. Its 97% word vomit: talking just to talk, repeating what was already stated a mere few pages ago, even using the exact same sentences (if I saw the words corpse baby and yellow dress one more time...*shakes fist angrily in the air*). It was incredibly awkward to read, and as a reader, I felt frustrated that so much of what was written wasn't moving the story forward. I skimmed the entire second half.
The bottom line is that there are so many biographies out there on this subject done better. Re: Dreamseller by Brandon Novak and In Deep by Angalia Bianca.
November 24, 2022
Strung Out is an incredibly written and emotionally resonant memoir, containing a raw but tender look at opiate addiction. khar’s candour and bravery is definitely something to be awed - her ability to unashamedly divulge her past mistakes and share her journey of addiction and recovery with such brutal honesty. i also appreciated khar’s recognition that her experiences were marked by a safety net of privilege as a well-off white woman, acknowledging that people without her material resources or with a different skin colour would not be afforded the same understanding nor structural support systems.
while this memoir touches on many subjects, the overarching messages about addiction ring the most true - the reminders that addiction is a public health issue, not always an individual’s moral failing. that we can’t expect people with addiction issues to recover when we treat them with disdain, instead of with understanding and compassion. that they are still people - addiction is just a part of their story, not completely who they are.
**thank you to the author/erin for kindly sending me a copy of your book - even though it took me forever to get round to it, i’m so glad i did!**
while this memoir touches on many subjects, the overarching messages about addiction ring the most true - the reminders that addiction is a public health issue, not always an individual’s moral failing. that we can’t expect people with addiction issues to recover when we treat them with disdain, instead of with understanding and compassion. that they are still people - addiction is just a part of their story, not completely who they are.
**thank you to the author/erin for kindly sending me a copy of your book - even though it took me forever to get round to it, i’m so glad i did!**
April 11, 2022
In Strung Out, Erin Khar unashamedly bares her raw truths, from her pathway into addiction as a child through her tumultuous journey to recovery. Fighting the stigma with pure honesty and paving a better future for the next generations, Khar‘s words inspire and you can’t help but root for her… I was so emotionally invested in her journey and have so much appreciation for her words. She covers mental health, childhood trauma, relationships, recovery, and worlds more as readers are captivatingly taken through the memoir. Really really great - 4.5 stars & would definitely recommend.
Thank you to Erin for sending me a copy!!
Thank you to Erin for sending me a copy!!
August 23, 2019
Reviewing this book is one of the most difficult reviews I've ever found myself writing. Simply because I've had a hard time detecting anything redeemable in it to discuss. In the first chapter I was already thinking rich girl problems, turned out I was right, which she freely admits, she also admits she doesn't fall into the category of problems one usually has in dealing with addiction. Profiling, color (black, white, Latino, poor) so that honesty was appreciated. However, to call her addictions or anyone who is "Strung Out" on street drugs an 'opiate crisis' angers me, and to say its something the government should help in, is overreaching and creates more problems than it solves. Case in point, the crackdown on prescription medication for those who are truly in pain, the government, in supposedly cracking down on the opiate crisis or war on drugs, has made it difficult if not impossible for chronic pain sufferers to fill an ordinary pain prescription. Does that solve the problem of illegal street drugs? Absolutely not! All it does is make it appear that the government is doing something about it and filling the nation's jails with people who are strung out on illegal street drugs and making billions of dollars in the process.
Are people who take legal pain medication going out on the street to replace their prescriptions? Possibly, I don't know, no one I'm aware of does this because the people I know who've experienced this problem, simply suffer, because they're not addicted.
As far as this book, I found it one more in a long line of "let me tell you my addiction problem so I can heal myself and be honest"; which is great if that's your thing, but there was no real help to people reading it, unless its a feeling of I'm not alone. This account isn't a common addiction experience, because this writer apparently had no problems with money, support from friends or getting into rehab, which is the biggest problems for those who are truly lost in the cycle of addiction. And the majority of people who are "Strung Out" aren't cured of their addictions by becoming pregnant, having a child and realizing there is something bigger or more important than oneself. I thank you for allowing me to read this, but I found it simplistic, a bit precocious and pretentious. Again, appreciate the read, glad she found her kind of help, but this could have covered much deeper issues than I was sexually abused as a child. I'm not making light of that, I'm saying it should have been explored more, the book might then have been helpful to others in that situation. Some resources to look to at the end, would also have helped, especially for people who have no money, no familial support and nowhere to go. I give three stars for effort but mostly because I feel guilty for being so honest myself in this review.
This book was provided to me by Netgalley for free, for an honest review.
Are people who take legal pain medication going out on the street to replace their prescriptions? Possibly, I don't know, no one I'm aware of does this because the people I know who've experienced this problem, simply suffer, because they're not addicted.
As far as this book, I found it one more in a long line of "let me tell you my addiction problem so I can heal myself and be honest"; which is great if that's your thing, but there was no real help to people reading it, unless its a feeling of I'm not alone. This account isn't a common addiction experience, because this writer apparently had no problems with money, support from friends or getting into rehab, which is the biggest problems for those who are truly lost in the cycle of addiction. And the majority of people who are "Strung Out" aren't cured of their addictions by becoming pregnant, having a child and realizing there is something bigger or more important than oneself. I thank you for allowing me to read this, but I found it simplistic, a bit precocious and pretentious. Again, appreciate the read, glad she found her kind of help, but this could have covered much deeper issues than I was sexually abused as a child. I'm not making light of that, I'm saying it should have been explored more, the book might then have been helpful to others in that situation. Some resources to look to at the end, would also have helped, especially for people who have no money, no familial support and nowhere to go. I give three stars for effort but mostly because I feel guilty for being so honest myself in this review.
This book was provided to me by Netgalley for free, for an honest review.
October 11, 2019
I must give credit to anyone who successfully lives a life in recovery from addiction, and especially anyone who has the discipline and persistence to write a book. Having struggled with addiction myself, I have found memoirs in this genre to be extremely helpful. Believe me, I've read scores of them, and this is why it is difficult for me to rate this book as a stellar read. As far as addiction memoirs go, I found this to be predictable. Self-hatred, try drugs, become addicted, see everything in your life go to hell, get sober, relapse, get sober again. This is not at all a poorly written book. It didn't, however, present an experience that was anything out of the ordinary in the genre.
October 28, 2019
A disarmingly honest account of one woman's misspent youth via addiction and how she eventually got herself together to put it all behind her after much pain and damage. Highly recommend reading this book for a deeper understanding of how this can so easily happen to anyone. An ideal book list inclusion for those interested in addiction and its consequences, as well as a glimmer of hope, and well worth reading for those who just may be curious.
Thanks to NetGalley for a copy of the eBook for a fair and honest review.
Thanks to NetGalley for a copy of the eBook for a fair and honest review.
March 17, 2024
It’s hard to rate someone’s memoir especially one like this. Erin is open and vulnerable about her years of opiate addiction. I’m thankful she survived and has written this to share her struggles in hope the reader can help others.
August 3, 2019
Strung out by Erin Khar is a memoir detailing the drug addiction, mental illness, and abuses in the life of the author. The book opens with Khar trying to figure out how to formulate an answer to her own child's question of whether his mother had ever used drugs. Coincidentally, when Khar's twelve-year-old son asks her this question, he is just one year younger than when his mother first used heroin at the age of 13 years of age.
To be honest, while reading this memoir, and others like it, (for example Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking), I have to admit a bias of those of the upper classes when it comes to issues such as substance abuse, nihilistic behaviors and other debilitating life occurrences in their lives. This is not to lessen or besmirch the troubles in the lives of the well to do or to express a belief those well off automatically have trouble-free lives. However, when reading memoirs like this, I tend to think of all of the other hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people lacking the resources, safety nets and opportunities of the upper classes, while wondering who will tell their stories and how their voices are held silent by the tethers of being rooted in the lower socioeconomic shackles of life. And due to the contents of at least the first seventy-five percent of this memoir, those biases were not removed, which made it difficult to finish the memoir.
My main issues with the memoir were the assemblage of the book and how the adage "first impressions are lasting impressions" impacted how Erin Khar was first perceived. With the way the chapters of the memoir were gathered, it was hard to establish empathy with her or feel sympathy toward her. The first parts of the memoir detailed an extravagant lifestyle (brand new cars, jewelry, designer clothes, overseas jaunts, paid for apartments and so on) of what appeared to be the description of a spoiled and petulant young woman, disrespectful of her fortunate socioeconomic standing in life, one of which she had nothing to do with other than being born into it. This then clouded over the power of her experiences and while reading the memoir lessened the impact of her life until reaching the end of the memoir.
To me, to make a memoir such as this resonate, the author must write in a manner that defeats these biases. While reading Strung Out, this did not happen until the very end of the memoir. It is not until the end of the memoir where the reader learns what she has learned and who she has become and what her substance abuse filled life led to later in her life. Though she does sprinkle information through the memoir describing origins of her behavior, it is not until the very end where Khar really connected with this reader and where empathy and sympathy toward her emerged. I would have preferred to have felt that from the beginning and on through the memoir.
To be honest, while reading this memoir, and others like it, (for example Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking), I have to admit a bias of those of the upper classes when it comes to issues such as substance abuse, nihilistic behaviors and other debilitating life occurrences in their lives. This is not to lessen or besmirch the troubles in the lives of the well to do or to express a belief those well off automatically have trouble-free lives. However, when reading memoirs like this, I tend to think of all of the other hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people lacking the resources, safety nets and opportunities of the upper classes, while wondering who will tell their stories and how their voices are held silent by the tethers of being rooted in the lower socioeconomic shackles of life. And due to the contents of at least the first seventy-five percent of this memoir, those biases were not removed, which made it difficult to finish the memoir.
My main issues with the memoir were the assemblage of the book and how the adage "first impressions are lasting impressions" impacted how Erin Khar was first perceived. With the way the chapters of the memoir were gathered, it was hard to establish empathy with her or feel sympathy toward her. The first parts of the memoir detailed an extravagant lifestyle (brand new cars, jewelry, designer clothes, overseas jaunts, paid for apartments and so on) of what appeared to be the description of a spoiled and petulant young woman, disrespectful of her fortunate socioeconomic standing in life, one of which she had nothing to do with other than being born into it. This then clouded over the power of her experiences and while reading the memoir lessened the impact of her life until reaching the end of the memoir.
To me, to make a memoir such as this resonate, the author must write in a manner that defeats these biases. While reading Strung Out, this did not happen until the very end of the memoir. It is not until the end of the memoir where the reader learns what she has learned and who she has become and what her substance abuse filled life led to later in her life. Though she does sprinkle information through the memoir describing origins of her behavior, it is not until the very end where Khar really connected with this reader and where empathy and sympathy toward her emerged. I would have preferred to have felt that from the beginning and on through the memoir.
October 28, 2019
A disarmingly honest account of one woman's misspent youth via addiction and how she eventually got herself together to put it all behind her after much pain and damage. Highly recommend reading this book for a deeper understanding of how this can so easily happen to anyone. An ideal book list inclusion for those interested in addiction and its consequences, as well as a glimmer of hope, and well worth reading for those who just may be curious.
Thanks to NetGalley for a copy of the eBook for a fair and honest review.
Thanks to NetGalley for a copy of the eBook for a fair and honest review.
August 20, 2020
Okay, but far from the more compelling addiction memoirs available. Basically the story of a massively over-privileged princess-type living the good life in California, but due to her loneliness and the fact that her parents don't care what she's doing, she gets involved with drugs. Problem is, there never seems to be anything real at stake, no real danger, no real consequences. Still, an interesting character piece, I guess. Two and half stars.
October 7, 2019
A fascinating book! I don't usually read recovery memoirs, but once I started this one, I couldn't put it down. The writing is fierce, unflinching, honest, and thoroughly entertaining. You don't have to be in recovery to appreciate the human drama, which in this time of widespread opioid addiction affects us all. Highly recommend this one.
June 15, 2022
I honestly don’t know where to begin with this review. I do not give five stars to books often and this is the first five star review in around six months. I say time and time again that I only ever give books five stars if they have somehow changed my life. Even if years later the writing is arguably not amazing or I no longer connect with the characters, I stick by my rating because at some point in the my life I read that book when I needed it and something within me shifted. So, this book has become one of the few that I will always remember.
I cannot begin to express the respect and admiration that I have for Erin for not only making the decision to sit down and write about her life with all of its ups and downs but also to publish it for the world to see. It cannot have been easy and I hope she can see the ways in which it has paid off and, I’m sure, helped many people.
The book begins with Erin as a young girl, fighting through confusing and tough emotions which she doesn’t understand. To try and drown out these feelings she begins to use heroin and so begins her journey of addiction. She discusses many of the pivotal points in her addiction and is unapologetically honest about many of the decisions she made and actions she took that were influenced by drugs. She talks about her relationship with men, friends, sex, her parents and drugs. It is by no means an ‘easy’ read but it is certainly a necessary one that will open your eyes and hopefully change some peoples perspectives on addiction.
Not only was the story itself incredible, but Erin’s writing was fantastic. I’m guilty of doing the odd skim read in books (most of the time by accident- I swear) but with this book I often found myself going back to read certain bits again because of how well it was said or to truly feel the emotion that it brought out in me. To have talent like this is rare and I feel lucky to have read it.
It’s moments like this, after reading a book that shifts my perspective on life, that I remember once again how much reading means to me and so many other people who can connect through literature. So thank you Erin for reminding me of my love for reading.
There is no shame in addiction or seeking help. The number for Samaritans where you can speak about any form of addiction in the U.K.- 116 123
I cannot begin to express the respect and admiration that I have for Erin for not only making the decision to sit down and write about her life with all of its ups and downs but also to publish it for the world to see. It cannot have been easy and I hope she can see the ways in which it has paid off and, I’m sure, helped many people.
The book begins with Erin as a young girl, fighting through confusing and tough emotions which she doesn’t understand. To try and drown out these feelings she begins to use heroin and so begins her journey of addiction. She discusses many of the pivotal points in her addiction and is unapologetically honest about many of the decisions she made and actions she took that were influenced by drugs. She talks about her relationship with men, friends, sex, her parents and drugs. It is by no means an ‘easy’ read but it is certainly a necessary one that will open your eyes and hopefully change some peoples perspectives on addiction.
Not only was the story itself incredible, but Erin’s writing was fantastic. I’m guilty of doing the odd skim read in books (most of the time by accident- I swear) but with this book I often found myself going back to read certain bits again because of how well it was said or to truly feel the emotion that it brought out in me. To have talent like this is rare and I feel lucky to have read it.
It’s moments like this, after reading a book that shifts my perspective on life, that I remember once again how much reading means to me and so many other people who can connect through literature. So thank you Erin for reminding me of my love for reading.
There is no shame in addiction or seeking help. The number for Samaritans where you can speak about any form of addiction in the U.K.- 116 123
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December 2, 2021Thankyou to the author for gifting me a copy of this book!
this was a brutally honest, often dark and gritty and hard-to-read memoir about the authors addiction with heroin
I really really appreciated the honestly of this memoir. The author really delves into her past, right from a young child, to be brutally open about her history and what resulted was a very engrossing and emotional read. I also enjoyed that the author didn’t ignore that she was writing about her experiences from a place of privilege both financially and in terms of being a white woman that meant that she was able to get the support she needed in terms of rehab and therapy as well as keeping her out of trouble due to her white privilege. it was definitely an important aspect of this book
I hadn’t read any memoirs previous to this regarding addiction and I definitely think it really opened my eyes to the cycles that it traps people in in a way that was accessible for someone who hasn’t struggled to understand. I found it educational and emotional and was rooting for the author so while I don’t rate memoirs I would recommend this one on
this was a brutally honest, often dark and gritty and hard-to-read memoir about the authors addiction with heroin
I really really appreciated the honestly of this memoir. The author really delves into her past, right from a young child, to be brutally open about her history and what resulted was a very engrossing and emotional read. I also enjoyed that the author didn’t ignore that she was writing about her experiences from a place of privilege both financially and in terms of being a white woman that meant that she was able to get the support she needed in terms of rehab and therapy as well as keeping her out of trouble due to her white privilege. it was definitely an important aspect of this book
I hadn’t read any memoirs previous to this regarding addiction and I definitely think it really opened my eyes to the cycles that it traps people in in a way that was accessible for someone who hasn’t struggled to understand. I found it educational and emotional and was rooting for the author so while I don’t rate memoirs I would recommend this one on
July 29, 2022
“I saw myself like a fractured mirror, at all different ages—as a little girl, lost and scared and running from the monster she believed lived inside her. I wanted to take that little girl in my arms and tell her it wasn’t her fault. That she didn’t make herself a monster. That she could be, should be, loved. But I still wasn’t completely sure if this was true, which broke my heart a little more.”
September 18, 2025
Not the strongest memoir. Amazing for her to share her story (and so very happy she is in recovery) but it felt a bit surface level and the writing was just fine. I felt pretty annoyed with all the half baked stories and loose ends.
January 10, 2025
Second only to Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way when it comes to gratuitous outfit descriptions.
September 19, 2020
I was pretty disappointed by this book. First, the book starts off with what sounds like a lot of humblebrags. It’s obvious that Khar grew up very rich and her problems include having movie stars fall in love with her and not being able to make it work with her handsome Parisian fiance. She's constantly jet setting between New York and L.A. despite making little mention of any job she holds down throughout her addiction. I feel like Khar is trying to make the point that addiction can happen to anyone regardless of their position in society, but Khar's position in society is what comes through. I did appreciate that Khar made the effort to include the psychology behind obtaining money from her father and the guilt she felt behind that. I would of much rather heard more about the means to fuel this lifestyle and what she's discovered about herself and her past behaviors. I'm accustomed to a better story arc from addiction memoirs with more of an internal resolution. Instead, it felt like this book had two endings-both of them cheap. The first comes when Khar's son is born and she gives up drugs forever. The End, they all live happily ever after. But no, the book continues and Khar continues to tell the story of her broken marriage making me think the book Khar was trying to write was really about all the terrible relationships Khar has been involved in throughout her life and not her drug use because she details every single man that comes into her life in this story. She falls in love with every single one, and can't make it work with any of them. But then that storyline resolves itself when Khar falls in love with writing and becomes a popular advice columnist. She finds the love of her life and marries him. Erin writes like an essayist or a reporter throughout this book, and I think misses the point of being a memoirist. -Just because that's the way it happened in your life doesn't mean that's the story you tell. You can talk about what you learned, or bring your friend's POV into the story or explore the event from multiple angles. Khar doesn't do any of that here, it's just a long complicated narrative detailing the events of her life. In my opinion, there are three ways to ruin a story: #1-all problems are solved when your protagonist has a baby #2 All problems are solved when protagonist "finds their life calling" #3 All problems are solved when the protagonist gets married. Unfortunately, Khar does all three here. Finally, the reviews and the forward lead me to believe this memoir was timely because it addressed a bigger societal problem with opiate addiction and systemic problems and how we treat women in particular. But it's not. It's not even about the current opiate crisis. It's about a rich girl doing heroin in the nineties and that's it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 21, 2022
A fantastic memoir. I usually struggle with reading addiction memoirs, but this one struck an excellent balance of reflecting on and processing the author's choices and where her addictions stemmed from. For me, it helped that she summarized much of the most difficult material and clearly showed how her behaviour stemmed from trauma. The material was still a little intense to read at times, but the payoff, reflections, and lyrical writing made it very much worth it.
August 16, 2019
I received and Advance Reader's Edition from Park Row Books in exchange for my honest review. Strung Out begins with a question from Khar's then twelve year old son, "Mom, did you ever do drugs?" The memoir recounts the author's fifteen year addiction to heroin and how it consumed her life, blinded her to the impact her addiction had on her relationships, particularly with her parents and close friends. It is brutally honest and powerfully written.
Khar grew up privileged in Los Angeles, getting great grades, cheerleading, horseback riding, and with expensive cars, clothing, houses, and popular friends. From the outside, she had all she could ever want or need and more. Her drug use began at age eight when she found an expired prescription for her grandmother's Darvocet in the medicine chest. She started using heroin at age thirteen to escape from emotions and feelings that she didn't understand.
For the next fifteen years, Khar used, went into rehabilitation, and relapsed, with the shame and stigma of her addiction increasing along with her denials and lies. It took motherhood for her to break from her addiction and get the help she needed. The book addresses the issues of stigma and the psychology of addiction well.
However, the book would have benefitted from more moments of introspection, particularly about the role of her economic privilege -- which she acknowledged at various points -- and race in the face of addiction. There are also moments of significant traumas that were not fully resolved -- did she ever confront the persons involved? Did she ever resolve her mother's questioning? Finally, the narrative could have used some alternative points of view, from her parents, perhaps. In the face of all of her denials, it was hard to believe that her parents didn't push back more or that there weren't greater confrontations. Parents know when their kids are lying. Perhaps, her parents didn't want to believe or accept her addiction and were in their own denial. In either case, some reflections on those issues would have rounded out the story.
All that being said, any parent should read this book, as should middle and high school age students, educators, and parent teacher organizations. It is one thing to provide our kids with classroom drug prevention education. It is something very different to read about an individual's personal experience of it and how quickly it all spirals out of control, particularly in the current climate where opioid deaths continue to climb.
Khar grew up privileged in Los Angeles, getting great grades, cheerleading, horseback riding, and with expensive cars, clothing, houses, and popular friends. From the outside, she had all she could ever want or need and more. Her drug use began at age eight when she found an expired prescription for her grandmother's Darvocet in the medicine chest. She started using heroin at age thirteen to escape from emotions and feelings that she didn't understand.
For the next fifteen years, Khar used, went into rehabilitation, and relapsed, with the shame and stigma of her addiction increasing along with her denials and lies. It took motherhood for her to break from her addiction and get the help she needed. The book addresses the issues of stigma and the psychology of addiction well.
However, the book would have benefitted from more moments of introspection, particularly about the role of her economic privilege -- which she acknowledged at various points -- and race in the face of addiction. There are also moments of significant traumas that were not fully resolved -- did she ever confront the persons involved? Did she ever resolve her mother's questioning? Finally, the narrative could have used some alternative points of view, from her parents, perhaps. In the face of all of her denials, it was hard to believe that her parents didn't push back more or that there weren't greater confrontations. Parents know when their kids are lying. Perhaps, her parents didn't want to believe or accept her addiction and were in their own denial. In either case, some reflections on those issues would have rounded out the story.
All that being said, any parent should read this book, as should middle and high school age students, educators, and parent teacher organizations. It is one thing to provide our kids with classroom drug prevention education. It is something very different to read about an individual's personal experience of it and how quickly it all spirals out of control, particularly in the current climate where opioid deaths continue to climb.
October 4, 2019
I loved this book and could not put it down! I found myself reading it into the wee hours of the morning, when I knew I should be sleeping instead... but the story draws you in. Despite all the flaws, all the mistakes, all the terrible choices, I felt a deep sense of empathy for Erin and what she was going through- how she felt about herself the entire time. I wanted so badly to see her get better and felt crushed at every relapse.
But her story rings so true... to my own story, to people I have known who struggled with addiction. At times, I was stunned by her deep insight. Frustrated that she wouldn't allow herself to be saved. Amazed by her willingness to keep fighting for air, for clarity, for peace. In the end, it really is a story of redemption, resillience, and an reminder that sometimes love can save us.
But her story rings so true... to my own story, to people I have known who struggled with addiction. At times, I was stunned by her deep insight. Frustrated that she wouldn't allow herself to be saved. Amazed by her willingness to keep fighting for air, for clarity, for peace. In the end, it really is a story of redemption, resillience, and an reminder that sometimes love can save us.
August 14, 2019
Erin Khar's book begins with a question from her son, "Mom have you ever done drugs?" Her answer is this book, a gripping memoir of her descent into addiction and her struggle to get clean. It's honest, gut wrenching and beautifully written. Khar's story is gripping and painful, she relapses multiple times looking for solace in drugs before she finally is able to say no and really mean it. The tipping point may well be the birth of the child who asks her that hard question so many years later. This book offered such a clear insight into what addiction is, how powerful its hold is, and how difficult it is to really break away. I couldn't help but think of the current opioid crisis when I was reading it.
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July 10, 2020Meh. I just didn’t care. Her story didn’t move me...felt self-indulgent. I’m sure her struggles were real but I wasn’t drawn in.
September 13, 2019
Spoilers: It is interesting that I am reviewing Erin Khar’s Strung Out: One Last Hit and Other Lies That Nearly Killed Me for this blog at the same time that I am reviewing The United States of Opioids by Harry Nelson for another site. Both books illustrate how large the Opioid Crisis has become and how it affects both society and the individual. The latter book is a dry fact based account of the Crisis and how it began as well as the various institutions and people that put the Crisis in motion. What it lacks is the personal and the individual case story of people with addictions. It sacrifices the details for the picture of the crisis at large.
Erin Khar's memoirs fills that need. It fills in the details and makes the Opioid Crisis personal. It tells the story of Kahr's struggles with drug addiction as well as the mindset that led her down this path as well as her recovery from her addiction.
Khar, a radio advice columnist, was inspired to write this memoir after watching a news report on opioid addiction with her then-twelve-year-old son, Atticus. Atticus asked if his Mom ever had taken drugs. Kahr was stunned at the question and hoped that she would never have this conversation with her son, so she could maintain his innocence. She explained why people became addicted and realized that she had to open up about her own past.
Khar writes the mindset of a person with an addiction really well. One way that she accomplishes that is by showing the reasons behind the addiction. Many people think that the addiction is the problem, full stop. When a person breaks their addiction, then they will be fine. Khar's writing shows that is not always the case.
Even before she first sneaked Darvocet from her grandmother's medicine cabinet, Khar was beset with problems that made her young life impossible. Her parents’ divorce along with her father's behavior in trying to buy her love with material possessions and her mother's involvement with an abusive boyfriend traumatized her. Khar had low self-esteem and even as young as four years old, she cut herself and held notions of suicide.
Throughout her young life, Khar derided herself as “ugly” and a “monster,” feeling insults from other children and rejection from boys deeply.
In a later chapter, Khar encountered an old family friend and had a panic attack. She remembered that he molested her when she was four years old and blamed herself ever since. These incidents reveal the lost soul that Khar was before she stole the Darvocet and injected heroin with her boyfriend at 13 and began an addiction that claimed her teen and young adult years.
Khar's book is graphic in its detail about her addiction and how it affected her friendships and romances. Through high school, Khar lived the exterior of the perfect A+ student who was a cheerleader, volleyball player, and horseback rider. In her spare time, she swallowed pills from friend's medicine cabinets, cut herself, took heroin, and slept with her boyfriend, Ted. Much of Khar's retreat into her addiction stemmed from her trying to act like the perfect student in front of everyone so she could hide the pain underneath. Readers with addictions and psychiatric disorders will completely understand this exhausting masquerade that they use to hide the lost soul underneath.
After her grandmother's death when she was fifteen, Khar withdrew from her egocentric father and depressed mother and explored the night life in ‘90’s downtown L.A. that involved her going to clubs, dating several unappealing men, and of course frequent drug use. She lost many of her friends and boyfriends. Ted and Khar broke up after Sam, Ted's cousin and another drug user that she was seeing on the side, died of an aneurysm. Her best friend Ellen, with whom Khar saw many rock bands, broke up with her after she spent too much time with another boyfriend, Ian. Ian, an older man, ended things with her because they were far apart in age (though Khar suspected that he was seeing someone else.). The breakups sent Kahr in an even further downward spiral as she experimented with crystal meth and pills.
She dated a drug dealer named Mike-Jim (“He said his name was Mike, but really it was Jim or the other way around,” Khar said) so he could supply her with her new drug of choice,crystal meth. Another unstable boyfriend, Will admitted that he put thirty phenobarbital in her spaghetti after she broke up with him.
These chapters grimly show how each break up, each disappointment, and each instance of abuse and mistreatment can bruise an already fragile personality. To cope, sometimes a person with an addiction can use that as a reason to continue their addiction.
Even when she tried to find a fresh start, Khar was surrounded by her old demons. She spent some time in Paris attending Sorbonne University, going to cafés and museums, making new friends, and trying her best to break her addiction. She became involved with Vincent, a Frenchman, who eventually moved to Los Angeles with her. When she discovered that he hadn't broken up with his old girlfriend, he moved out and she relapsed back into heroin.
In 1997, during the height of the so-called “heroin chic” trend, Vincent and Khar’s mother forced her into rehab. While she tried to follow the twelve-step program to the letter and bonded with many of her fellow patients, her addiction was never truly far behind. A friend at the rehab overdosed during his release and she was too terrified of a relapse to go help him, sending her mother instead.
When she was caught between two men, she missed heroin and returned to the drug.
During a psychiatric session with her mother, Khar's PTSD from her earlier molestation was mentioned. Her mother's denial of the events sent Khar into depression and a return to cutting as well as the drugs.
It is truly heart-breaking to read about this woman travelling from place to place, friend to friend, lover to lover hoping to break her addiction. But the seemingly endless cycle continues and she once again finds herself alone and reaching for the needle or the bottle.
There are some truly chilling moments that reveal how a drug addiction can be unpredictable and frightening, to the point that a person with an addiction can't trust their own mind, body, or the people around them. During rehab, Khar hallucinated spiders crawling up and down her room.
After she and her friend, Diana, had shot up, Khar accidentally o.d.’ed, to the point that she almost died.
A pregnancy with Jack, a troubled boyfriend, ended in an abortion, but Khar continued the relationship because of the drug access they provided for each other. Khar knew the relationship was unhealthy (“The difference between us was that Jack was a drug addict and I was a mentally ill person who had an addiction,” Khar said), but stayed with him.
Many of Khar's transactions put her at the forefront of the socioeconomic gap and she realized that as a biracial woman from a wealthy family, she had advantages such as access to good rehab centers and treatment programs, that many of her fellow addicts and dealers did not.
She bought drugs from many people who were on the lower economic scale and were primarily black and Latino. She witnessed many of the unfair treatment they got such as harsher prison sentences or deportation while she and others of her background were given court appointed rehab.
In one haunting moment, Khar bought drugs from a 12-year-old African-American boy. She reasoned that a 12-year-old doesn't just wake up one day and decide to sell drugs. He sells them because he has no other options in the neighborhood in which he lives and is denied many of the employment, education, and health access that Khar had.
Khar finally kicked her addiction for good, when she was pregnant with her son, Atticus. However, many of the reasons behind her addiction such as low self-esteem and unhealthy relationships continued. Atticus’ father, Michael continued to hold her addiction over her head and refused to admit his infidelities causing Khar to solely blame herself for the end of their marriage. She also started a clothing line with a friend that fell apart so she avoided situations and her friendship ended for a time.
These last chapters reveal the end of the addiction is not the whole story, especially when the reasons behind the addiction remain. When she held Atticus for the first time, Kahr repeated a mantra: I love him more than I hate myself realizing that she still had the capacity for love.
She began to make healthier choices like hanging out with better friends who encouraged her sobriety or had recovered themselves and acted as guides to aid her. She got involved with Yoga to help change her mindset and outlook. She found her gift for writing and took to blogging essays and an advice column, Ask Erin.(“She's made all the mistakes so you don't have to.”) She also fell in love with and married Seth and had a second child, Franklin finding stability and happiness in her family.
Erin Khar's book is brilliant at capturing not only a drug addiction, but the reasons and mindset that created the addiction and the resources, healing, and emotional support that one needs to make a full and complete recovery.
Erin Khar's memoirs fills that need. It fills in the details and makes the Opioid Crisis personal. It tells the story of Kahr's struggles with drug addiction as well as the mindset that led her down this path as well as her recovery from her addiction.
Khar, a radio advice columnist, was inspired to write this memoir after watching a news report on opioid addiction with her then-twelve-year-old son, Atticus. Atticus asked if his Mom ever had taken drugs. Kahr was stunned at the question and hoped that she would never have this conversation with her son, so she could maintain his innocence. She explained why people became addicted and realized that she had to open up about her own past.
Khar writes the mindset of a person with an addiction really well. One way that she accomplishes that is by showing the reasons behind the addiction. Many people think that the addiction is the problem, full stop. When a person breaks their addiction, then they will be fine. Khar's writing shows that is not always the case.
Even before she first sneaked Darvocet from her grandmother's medicine cabinet, Khar was beset with problems that made her young life impossible. Her parents’ divorce along with her father's behavior in trying to buy her love with material possessions and her mother's involvement with an abusive boyfriend traumatized her. Khar had low self-esteem and even as young as four years old, she cut herself and held notions of suicide.
Throughout her young life, Khar derided herself as “ugly” and a “monster,” feeling insults from other children and rejection from boys deeply.
In a later chapter, Khar encountered an old family friend and had a panic attack. She remembered that he molested her when she was four years old and blamed herself ever since. These incidents reveal the lost soul that Khar was before she stole the Darvocet and injected heroin with her boyfriend at 13 and began an addiction that claimed her teen and young adult years.
Khar's book is graphic in its detail about her addiction and how it affected her friendships and romances. Through high school, Khar lived the exterior of the perfect A+ student who was a cheerleader, volleyball player, and horseback rider. In her spare time, she swallowed pills from friend's medicine cabinets, cut herself, took heroin, and slept with her boyfriend, Ted. Much of Khar's retreat into her addiction stemmed from her trying to act like the perfect student in front of everyone so she could hide the pain underneath. Readers with addictions and psychiatric disorders will completely understand this exhausting masquerade that they use to hide the lost soul underneath.
After her grandmother's death when she was fifteen, Khar withdrew from her egocentric father and depressed mother and explored the night life in ‘90’s downtown L.A. that involved her going to clubs, dating several unappealing men, and of course frequent drug use. She lost many of her friends and boyfriends. Ted and Khar broke up after Sam, Ted's cousin and another drug user that she was seeing on the side, died of an aneurysm. Her best friend Ellen, with whom Khar saw many rock bands, broke up with her after she spent too much time with another boyfriend, Ian. Ian, an older man, ended things with her because they were far apart in age (though Khar suspected that he was seeing someone else.). The breakups sent Kahr in an even further downward spiral as she experimented with crystal meth and pills.
She dated a drug dealer named Mike-Jim (“He said his name was Mike, but really it was Jim or the other way around,” Khar said) so he could supply her with her new drug of choice,crystal meth. Another unstable boyfriend, Will admitted that he put thirty phenobarbital in her spaghetti after she broke up with him.
These chapters grimly show how each break up, each disappointment, and each instance of abuse and mistreatment can bruise an already fragile personality. To cope, sometimes a person with an addiction can use that as a reason to continue their addiction.
Even when she tried to find a fresh start, Khar was surrounded by her old demons. She spent some time in Paris attending Sorbonne University, going to cafés and museums, making new friends, and trying her best to break her addiction. She became involved with Vincent, a Frenchman, who eventually moved to Los Angeles with her. When she discovered that he hadn't broken up with his old girlfriend, he moved out and she relapsed back into heroin.
In 1997, during the height of the so-called “heroin chic” trend, Vincent and Khar’s mother forced her into rehab. While she tried to follow the twelve-step program to the letter and bonded with many of her fellow patients, her addiction was never truly far behind. A friend at the rehab overdosed during his release and she was too terrified of a relapse to go help him, sending her mother instead.
When she was caught between two men, she missed heroin and returned to the drug.
During a psychiatric session with her mother, Khar's PTSD from her earlier molestation was mentioned. Her mother's denial of the events sent Khar into depression and a return to cutting as well as the drugs.
It is truly heart-breaking to read about this woman travelling from place to place, friend to friend, lover to lover hoping to break her addiction. But the seemingly endless cycle continues and she once again finds herself alone and reaching for the needle or the bottle.
There are some truly chilling moments that reveal how a drug addiction can be unpredictable and frightening, to the point that a person with an addiction can't trust their own mind, body, or the people around them. During rehab, Khar hallucinated spiders crawling up and down her room.
After she and her friend, Diana, had shot up, Khar accidentally o.d.’ed, to the point that she almost died.
A pregnancy with Jack, a troubled boyfriend, ended in an abortion, but Khar continued the relationship because of the drug access they provided for each other. Khar knew the relationship was unhealthy (“The difference between us was that Jack was a drug addict and I was a mentally ill person who had an addiction,” Khar said), but stayed with him.
Many of Khar's transactions put her at the forefront of the socioeconomic gap and she realized that as a biracial woman from a wealthy family, she had advantages such as access to good rehab centers and treatment programs, that many of her fellow addicts and dealers did not.
She bought drugs from many people who were on the lower economic scale and were primarily black and Latino. She witnessed many of the unfair treatment they got such as harsher prison sentences or deportation while she and others of her background were given court appointed rehab.
In one haunting moment, Khar bought drugs from a 12-year-old African-American boy. She reasoned that a 12-year-old doesn't just wake up one day and decide to sell drugs. He sells them because he has no other options in the neighborhood in which he lives and is denied many of the employment, education, and health access that Khar had.
Khar finally kicked her addiction for good, when she was pregnant with her son, Atticus. However, many of the reasons behind her addiction such as low self-esteem and unhealthy relationships continued. Atticus’ father, Michael continued to hold her addiction over her head and refused to admit his infidelities causing Khar to solely blame herself for the end of their marriage. She also started a clothing line with a friend that fell apart so she avoided situations and her friendship ended for a time.
These last chapters reveal the end of the addiction is not the whole story, especially when the reasons behind the addiction remain. When she held Atticus for the first time, Kahr repeated a mantra: I love him more than I hate myself realizing that she still had the capacity for love.
She began to make healthier choices like hanging out with better friends who encouraged her sobriety or had recovered themselves and acted as guides to aid her. She got involved with Yoga to help change her mindset and outlook. She found her gift for writing and took to blogging essays and an advice column, Ask Erin.(“She's made all the mistakes so you don't have to.”) She also fell in love with and married Seth and had a second child, Franklin finding stability and happiness in her family.
Erin Khar's book is brilliant at capturing not only a drug addiction, but the reasons and mindset that created the addiction and the resources, healing, and emotional support that one needs to make a full and complete recovery.
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