Ebook Free unSweetined: A Memoir, by Jodie Sweetin
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unSweetined: A Memoir, by Jodie Sweetin
Ebook Free unSweetined: A Memoir, by Jodie Sweetin
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About the Author
Jodie Sweetin is best known for her role as Stephanie Tanner on ABC's long-running, hugely popular sitcom Full House, which still airs in syndication. She has shared her story on Good Morning America, IdeaThe Big with Donnie Deutsch, Access Hollywood, Entertainment Tonight, and Chelsea Lately, and hosted Pants-Off Dance-Off on Fuse. She lives in California with her daughter, Zoie.
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Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
UnSweetined chapter oneSPEECH IMPEDIMENT fuck it. I was tired of trying. Tired of controlling myself. Tired of caring. It was a Sunday night and my options were to sit home and get some rest for the big day I had on Monday or to go out, party, and not worry about anything. So when a friend called and asked me if I wanted to head to Hermosa Beach, I didn’t hesitate. Before I knew it I was smoking meth and doing my hair, preparing for a big night. I drove off solo with my to-go cup filled with alcohol. I never went anywhere without my to-go cup. It was a typical night of partying. I met some people at a bar in Hermosa Beach that played house music on Sundays from 2:00 p.m. until around 2:00 a.m. I was friendly with the bar’s owner so there was always a table waiting for me, and half-priced bottles for being such a good customer. From the second I walked in, it was on. Some friend gave me a hug and put Ecstasy right in my mouth. That’s how the night started. Simple as that. Coke. No problem. We were doing it right at the table. Meth wasn’t as socially acceptable so I did that at home, alone, or with a couple friends who were also using. But the coke, the Ecstasy—the party—went until closing. It almost always did. Then it was back to my place in Westchester, a Los Angeles neighborhood around the corner from LAX. It was always back to my place. Somehow the group had grown to about fifteen or twenty people. I was playing the role of after-party host. Looking back, I think I liked the control. I was always the driver, the host; it was always my show. With people waiting to party, I went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in one hand, a bottle of champagne under my arm, and a big plate of coke in the other hand for all of my guests. The crowd went wild. Standing ovation. Just how I liked it. As usual the party continued into the near-daylight hours. There was still a plate of coke on the living-room table and a handful of friends—and I use that term loosely—were making themselves at home. The only problem? In seven hours I would be standing in front of a roomful of college students at Marquette University telling them how great it felt to overcome a drug addiction and how important it was to stay off drugs. I had a flight to catch and needed to be at the airport by 5:30 a.m., and at a quarter to five, I was still nose-deep in a pile of cocaine with a roomful of strangers listening to house music. And I hadn’t even packed! I was pretty good at pulling off this kind of thing. All my life I had given everyone exactly what they wanted. If Full House producers needed someone to look cute while eating Oat Boats, I smiled in my cereal. If my friends needed a house to party in, I opened my doors, supplied drugs, and broke up lines of cocaine with a credit card. And if America decided I was supposed to be a role model, I hopped on a plane, turned on my best Stephanie-Tanner-all-grown-up face-and gave a speech. So at 5:00 a.m. I threw some clothes in a bag, probably forgetting socks or toothpaste or something important, and attempted to make a clean escape. But the night of partying really left me frazzled. I came into the living room with my packed bag in hand and started shaking. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I had been up for two days straight, partying without a care in the world, and now I was starting to lose it. On the car ride I realized I was wearing a T-shirt that said “Things you shouldn’t take to the airport” with pictures of drugs, guns, and a toothpaste tube larger than three ounces. I was one for three; I was carrying a bag of cocaine because I knew I couldn’t get through the next twenty-four hours without it—and praying the stupid shirt didn’t give me away to the airport security guard. That sort of paranoia comes along with drug use. The guard searching my bag will not see the humor in my T-shirt and will look extra hard through my bags. Oh my God! What am I going to do? He did search pretty hard, but not because of the shirt. I took a deep breath and attempted to remain cool as the guard rummaged through my belongings. My friend who drove me to the airport told me I probably shouldn’t talk to anybody because at that point I couldn’t put together a complete sentence. The security guy took out my cosmetic case and asked me about every item. It took every ounce of energy I had to get out the words “lip gloss” and “mascara” without looking like a complete wreck. But I was dying inside. I thought this was it. I was going to get busted. How could I not? The guard then pulled out the compact where I kept my coke. My heart was beating through my chest. I thought for sure I was going to be arrested. And then it happened … “OK, ma’am, have a nice flight.” I was safe. I sat down at the gate and nearly broke down. What am I doing? What the hell is wrong with me? How did I become this person? If I had had that gun my shirt warned against, I probably would have blown my brains out. I was miserable …and exhausted. When I got to my hotel near Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, I slept for a few hours but when I woke up I was still dead tired. I was a mess. Luckily I had the coke to pick me back up. I did a few key bumps and headed to the lecture hall, where a sold-out crowd waited to hear me speak. I thought for sure that one of the professors would take one look at me and kick me out. But none did. They wanted to hear about the trials and tribulations of Jodie Sweetin, or at least the Jodie Sweetin I had created by appearing on Good Morning America and talking to People magazine. I stood up at the podium, looked around the room, and put on my best TV smile. I was so disappointed in myself. I was living a complete lie. But unfortunately, guilt doesn’t make you stop. I talked about growing up on television and about how great my life was now that I was sober, and then midspeech I started to cry. The crowd probably thought that the memories of hitting rock bottom were too much for me to handle. Or maybe they thought the tears were just a way for an actor to send a message that drugs are bad. I don’t know what they thought. I know what they didn’t think. They didn’t think I was coming down from a two-day bender of coke, meth, and Ecstasy and they didn’t think that I was lying to them with every sentence that came out of my mouth. That much I do know. The little bit of coke that I had done before the speech wasn’t enough to make me forget how bad I felt for doing what I was doing. The guilt was eating away at me. I was struggling to keep it together, but no one realized that. I finished. They applauded. Standing ovation. Just how I liked it. And it was over. I was just so tired. Tired of lying. Tired of pretending to be someone that I wasn’t. I took a deep breath and walked out of the lecture hall. I went back to my hotel room and buried my face in my hands. I couldn’t keep doing this. It had to end. But not today. I wiped away the tears and finished the baggie of coke. Fuck it. I’ll quit tomorrow. It had been a year since I went on Good Morning America and told the world that I was a recovered drug addict. And back then I really was recovering—or trying to, anyway. I had been sober for a few months, but I knew in the back of my mind it wasn’t over. I wasn’t ready. But the story was a good one and it landed me the speaking jobs I needed to keep my career going and the drug money rolling in. Drugs and alcohol don’t come cheap—especially when you are also buying for a group of friends who mooch off your residual checks. I didn’t put up with eight seasons of Kimmy Gibbler so they could get high! With the new income and a new house in Los Angeles it was all too easy to get right back into drugs. It started one day, just a few months after my GMA spot, when I got a random phone call from a friend who I used with and who occasionally sold me drugs. I invited her to my place. I was in an apartment at the time. I knew it was a really bad idea to invite her over but I wanted to test myself, I guess. We hung out, played cards. I told her I hadn’t done meth in a while. One thing led to another and just like that, I was back. After trying to stay sober and then relapsing a number of times, battling the decision to remain sober for a couple of months, I began to give up on myself. Then, when I moved into the house, I stopped putting in the effort altogether. “You can do this again,” I told myself about using. I wasn’t in a relationship and I didn’t have a good group of friends around me. I was frustrated and tired of trying. I had it in my head that I just wasn’t done. I was always up for any party, especially if it involved Las Vegas, but my newfound careless attitude often got in my way. I regularly lost cell phones, wallets, and other valuables. One weekend, everyone decided to head out to Vegas, but before I could leave, I had to get cash from the bank since I had misplaced my ATM card. I took out ten thousand dollars in cash to bring with me to bankroll the alcohol and drugs for everyone, as usual, and a little shopping for me. In Sin City I spent two thousand dollars on makeup and an outfit for the evening and was ready to have fun. The night brought us to various clubs and then to a blowout back at the hotel. Random people made their way in and out of my party until the sun came up. The next morning I noticed that the remaining eight thousand dollars was gone. Maybe I lost it, or maybe it was stolen. I didn’t care. Whether in Vegas or in Hollywood, people would call and ask if I had plans, and even when I had had no intention of going out, I would say, “yeah sure” and it would be off to a night on the town. Outside of the speeches, I didn’t have any responsibilities so I often blew off my family and sober friends and opted to hang out with whoever wanted to do drugs. Quickly, I was back to partying like I was at my worst, spending seven hundred dollars a week on meth, coke, and Ecstasy and another four to five thousand dollars every week or two on table service at various Hollywood hot spots. After partying, I’d head to random colleges and give speeches that were packed with lies. If during the Q & A portion someone asked me how long I had been sober, I’d say I had gotten out of rehab in April 2005, and out of sober living in October that same year. That part was true—but I was covering up my relapses. I felt terrible about what I was doing. I thought that maybe, if I kept getting up there, giving these talks, and saying I was sober enough that eventually it would happen for me: The story I was telling, with the happy ending I was creating, would somehow come true. But even with my life as messy as it was, I hadn’t really hit rock bottom yet. I was too strong to hit that sort of low. I wasn’t going to overdose, wind up in the hospital, or have any near-death scares like I did the first time around. I was too in control. It was a far cry from the cute little girl that everyone remembered from Full House—the girl everyone expected me to be for the rest of my life. I wasn’t Stephanie Tanner or the girl I was pretending to be in speeches and interviews, but I wasn’t exactly the drug addict, wild child that my friends thought I was either. I didn’t know who I was. That was the problem that may have led to my drug use in the first place, a problem that goes back as far as I can remember. …
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Product details
Paperback: 256 pages
Publisher: Gallery Books; Reprint edition (July 6, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1439152691
ISBN-13: 978-1439152690
Product Dimensions:
6 x 0.6 x 9 inches
Shipping Weight: 10.6 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
Average Customer Review:
4.5 out of 5 stars
380 customer reviews
Amazon Best Sellers Rank:
#12,052 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
I finished this book in 2 days and it was a good read. It gives great look inside what can happen when a wrong turn is taken after being a child star at such a young age. A few points made me question if Jodie Sweetin was trying to solicit some pity from her readers by making a excuses for the actions that happened but this book made me love her even more!
Like many others, I grew up watching Full House. And Stephanie Tanner was always my favorite. I'm right about Jodie's age, and after the show ended I wondered what happened to her. Now with Fuller House and Dancing with the Stars on, my interest in her was immediately renewed. I didn't even know she wrote a book, until I stumbled across this while “googling†her. I'm glad I found it. I loved the book. I love her and I am rooting for her.This book is primarily about Jodie's addiction to drugs and alcohol and her constant battle to overcome them. It says so on the cover and right on the first page. For those giving this book one star because “it was all about drugs and nothing else,†maybe you should read the description prior to buying. I will agree at points it seems repetitive. But that was her LIFE. This isn't a fictional story. She relapses a lot because that is part of her addiction.I've seen a lot of people write how there's not a lot of information about Full House or “juicy tidbits†about the cast. Again, I invite you to read the description prior to buying. The title doesn't even suggest anything about Full House! This is the story of Jodie's life. She does talk about Full House and she does talk about the cast and her connection to them even to this day. But Full House was not her reason for writing this book. She wrote this for herself and to tell her story of addiction. I found many things in the book interesting. I don't want to ruin anything so I won't say what, but there was a lot I didn't know about her personally.The book is very easy to read. Sweetin tells her story in the first person. I agree the writing isn't really “award winning†but I don't believe she ever intended to be a best-selling author. It's very easy to get caught up and binge read this book in one sitting. I broke it up over a few days, but found myself reading multiple chapters when I had really sat down to read only one.This book is raw. It is brutally honest. She doesn't sugar coat things. It's a sad story. At times I wanted to reach through the book, slap her and say “what are you doing?!†It's so easy for us to look at her and think she has it all. She was blessed at an early age. Why is she complaining? Why is she getting involved in this lifestyle? Why would she do this or keep going back? The answer is she's a human being just like you and me. Celebrity does make you exempt from the bad things.Addiction is something she will fight the rest of her life. I'm glad she wrote this book for herself and I hope it helped her. I'm glad she shared it with the world. She didn't have to. And it's not a publicity stunt or damage control, this book is actually a few years old. Fuller House wasn't even in production yet. I gained a lot of respect and love for Jodie. A true fan of hers hoping for nothing but the best in her future.
I had been hearing about Jodie Sweetin's meth addiction for years in the tabloids and I love drug memoirs. Being that it was my favorite character on full house I had to get it. I wasn't expecting much since she isn't a writer, but this was actually pretty well written. Its not often that I read a book in one sitting but I read this cover to cover in a few hours. There isn't much full house gossip which isn't why I bought this so that wasn't a negative for me. I would say this book is more of a triumph after over coming addiction which is exactly what made me curious about her and what makes this a great read. This was a really good book!
It truly takes an incredible measure of strength to put on display for strangers a hurtful, public story.And she didn’t do it for our benefit.As a necessary step towards total recovery, Sweetin shares her story of pain and recovery. I found myself grieving with her in so many moments in her walk.
The quality of writing is not the best, but the flow of the Jodie’s story was done in a logical way.I also appreciate that Jodie isn’t flat out telling you any one message with her story. She doesn’t hand you a take home message tied up pretty with a bow. She allows you to take bits and pieces from the various events in her life and form your own. From what makes a marriage more successful. To peer pressure. To figuring out who you are, where your place is, and what makes you happy.Jodie is wise enough to know these aren’t blanket - one size fits all - answers
I was actually really impressed with this book. I love that she really told the story, all the details. I loved to hear her story of trying to be normal, she hated being the outcast. No friends growing up. As bad as it sounds I enjoyed reading the other side of Hollywood that no one talks about. You know it exists, but it’s so hush hush. I’m so glad she made it to recovery for herself and her baby girl. Her mom sounded like an amazing woman as well.I’d highly recommend this book.
As a Full House Fan, I was so excited to see that Jodie Sweetin had wrote her own book. Her book describes the most intimate details of her life. It is not for those who are weary of drugs, alcohol, or sex because it is a real life account of her addiction and recovery. One thing that really stood out from most other memoirs about addiction, she mentions that during the books creation, she had a relapse. I've read many memoirs, none of which are as honest about his or her current issues.Overall, this book is very easy to read and will keep the reader captivated.
One of my fave books, I'm keeping it on my shelf to reread later. This book is so funny and candid. It was really interesting reading about her life. I loved reading it and couldn't wait to get to the next chapter. I had no idea she struggled that badly with drugs. It does make me wonder if she's still sober.... wishing her a lifetime of happiness. Also love the pictures of her life she put In the books album. Shea so beautiful and I enjoy watching her on Fuller House .
From the moment I started the book till the last page I felt all of the author's pain and angst. However, at the same time I could not help but admire the fact that she was wearing her heart on her sleeve and letting everyone know the truth! She was saying, you know what, I may have been a darling sweetheart on Full House, but guess what , in real life I am only human. So yeah, I messed up, not just a wee bit but big.....but in the end I straightened out and am all the better for it. If I can do it so can you!
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