As a preface to the review:
I am no addict, former or current, nor am I an expert on addiction. I can, however, offer some candid sentiments as a reader with a critical mind. When someone decides to present their lives in a published form, they can expect scrutiny and praise alike. Alas, no one is perfect, but it is the way in which someone chooses to share these battles that is at issue here. I can empathise at times, but I will not pull out a tissue and weep along with everyone simply to toe the line.
I am not a celebrity gossip nut! That said, when I came across this book, I thought I ought to give it a whirl, since I grew up in the Full House era. Sweetin opens by asking the reader not to judge her for what she has done or the paths down which she traveled. I cannot begin to wonder what she expects from self-made publicity over all these events, except, perhaps, to air her dirty laundry and keep the rumours at bay. Sweetin describes the ease into which she slid into acting and how ‘Stephanie Judith Tanner’ was created after casting her for the show. The strain of working and going to school exacerbated her distance from those her own age and she began closer with her work family than those her own age. Sweetin describes the beginning of the long spiral into the abyss of addiction and alcoholism and details the steps taken to dig her own grave, with brief moments of clarity and solace. She was, by her own admission, a brutal addict who sought to live life and move forward, yet always had the addiction as a shackle around her ankle. Even at time of publication she was unable to declare victory or progress with her addiction, though she did become a mother and apparently briefly ‘saw the light in motherhood’. Alas, perhaps she ought to have waited for success before pushing this out. I have my theories, below.
Sweetin attempts to lump herself with the likes of other child stars, by explaining away the pressures of childhood acting as being partially responsible for her demise. I choose not to offer her that out. By her own admission, life on the Full House set was not full of partying and drinking, nor did she extend her acting career after the show ended (not from a lack of trying, but Stephanie Tanner became a moniker she could not shed). Sweetin drifted into alcohol at age 14, found it lit a spark inside her and off she went, down the path that many teens have found themselves; rebellion and defiance her besties. Her choice to move onto pot and Ecstasy were completely her own and the boredom with life as a small-time druggie and big time partier brought cocaine and meth into the picture. She admits that once she got rolling in that it was impossible to stop and she found herself stuck in a life where she HAD to score or life would have no purpose, while being the picture of perfection to those who did not know her secrets. She goes so far as to offer up a sob story about addiction literally being in her blood, as though she can chalk it up to her birth mother’s past being passed along to her. Touching, but a scapegoat nonetheless.
Her struggles are not unique her journey nothing new. Her stints in rehab and her longing to have others coddle her and make it all better cannot be seen as anything but the regular struggle of an addict seeking to better themselves. She did not splash her image across the tabloids, which might be part of the reason she had this book penned, to ensure people knew she was still around. She was, admittedly, the forgotten child in the threesome of Full House original children (pardon my grouping the twins into one entity) and this was her way of not being forgotten. How apropos, as her character was the same way, looking for attention from whomever might be around to offer it up. While perhaps less damaging than a Hilton sex tape, the book seeks to shine the light on her and the holes in which she found herself and offers little of inspiration to the reader seeking to see a Hollywood star who left the sad and pathetic life behind.
An interesting read with a few eyebrow raising moments, but surely nothing stellar or worth a long-term investment. Not drivel, but surely not an autobiography with any substance that seeks to grip the reader and help them see that Jodie Sweetin in a warrior who has overcome her past and strives to help others.
Ms. Sweetin, if you wanted the public to reach out and praise you for all you have been through and all you have done to better yourself, you ought to have waited for the demons to be caged. By expecting us to sip from the Kool-Aid and feel sorry for you, when you admit to pushing this all onto yourself, I can think of your most famous catchphrase: “HOW RUDE!”