Good Life Project - Finding Strength in Surrender | Laura Cathcart Robbins

Episode Date: April 6, 2023

Have you ever felt like the only one in the room? That uneasy feeling of being different, isolated, or misunderstood, having to perform to a norm that is entirely misaligned with who you are can be jarring. But what if those moments of feeling out of place are actually the key to unlocking a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us? Welcome to a groundbreaking episode where we dive deep into the unseen divide with our guest, Laura Cathcart Robbins.Laura Cathcart Robbins is an accomplished author, freelance writer, speaker, and host of the popular podcast The Only One in the Room. Her new memoir, Stash: My Life in Hiding is about the journey to sobriety and self-love amidst addiction, privilege, racism, and self-sabotage. In this episode, we dive into:The powerful role of vulnerability, honesty, and openness in fostering genuine connections, breaking down barriers, and coming home to yourself.How so many of us try to cope with stress, overwhelm, or differences by turning to unhealthy behaviors, even addiction, and how these need not be lifelong conditions.How comparing your suffering to others often only piles on, rather than eases the pain.An unusual take on redefining and rebuilding relationships after life-altering events, like divorce, addiction, and recovery.The importance of including diverse voices in educational and communal spaces and beyond.You can find Laura at: Website | Instagram | The Only One In The Room PodcastIf you LOVED this episode you’ll also love the conversations we had with Rich Roll about his journey through addiction and awakening.Check out our offerings & partners: My New Book SparkedMy New Podcast SPARKED. To submit your “moment & question” for consideration to be on the show go to sparketype.com/submit. Visit Our Sponsor Page For Great Resources & Discount Codes Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

He gives me the script and I've never heard of the medication. And he tells me a little bit about it. I don't remember. But I went home and I took it and I loved it. I loved it. I loved it. And I knew that there was something wrong with me loving it that much. But there was something else there for me.

This is an answer for me. If I have this, then I can show up for my life and I can be okay. I won't have to endure. I can live. I can participate. I can be present. I can have energy. It felt like the answer to everything for me. So have you ever felt like you're the only one in a room, that uneasy feeling of being different or isolated or misunderstood, having to perform to a norm that is entirely misaligned. With who you are, it can be incredibly jarring. But what if those moments of feeling out of place are actually the key to unlocking a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us? So excited to

welcome our guest today, Laura Cathcart-Robbins, as we dive into these questions and more. Laura is an accomplished author, freelance writer, speaker, and the host of the popular podcast, The Only One in the Room. And with years of experience as a speaker and school trustee, she's played an instrumental role in creating the Buckley School's nationally recognized Committee on Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Justice. Her recent articles in the HuffPost and

The Temper addressing race recovery divorce have earned her worldwide acclaim. And in addition to her writing and speaking, Laura is a TEDx speaker and an LA Moth Story Slam winner. Her passion for storytelling and creating inclusive spaces has led her to serve on advisory boards in the San Diego Writers Festival and the Outliers HQ Podcast Festival. In today's episode, we explore the powerful role of vulnerability, honesty, and openness in fostering genuine connection, breaking down barriers, and coming home to yourself. And we look at how so many of us cope with stress and overwhelm or difference by turning

to unhealthy behaviors, even addiction, as was Laura's story, and how these need not be lifelong conditions. We look at how comparing your suffering to others also piles on shame rather than eases the pain. And she shares an unusual take on redefining and rebuilding relationships after life-altering events like divorce, addiction, or recovery. We dive into the importance of including diverse voices in educational and communal spaces and beyond. So excited to share this conversation with you. I'm Jonathan Fields, and this is Good Life Project. Compromised. The pilot's a hitman. I knew you were going to be fun. On January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg.

You know what the difference between me and you is? You're going to die. Don't shoot him! We need him! Y'all need a pilot? Flight Risk. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever,

making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest charging Apple Watch, getting you eight hours of charge in just 15 minutes. The Apple Watch Series 10, available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone XS or later required, charge time and actual results will vary. I want to take a really big step back in time. I was reading a piece by you that I think you wrote in 2017 about your dad entitled,

My Daddy is the Goat. Oh, yeah. It was so beautiful. And in it, you touch down in almost like three different seasons of your life and show how in each one of those moments where you really had no idea how he would respond, he just completely showed up without judgment, without condition. And it seems like you have something just really beautiful and powerful between the two of you. I completely forgot about that piece. So thank you for bringing it up. When I wrote it, it's on my blog. And when I hit publish, one of my brothers called me and says, you put my daddy is a goat. It has to be the goat. It's the greatest of all time. And I'm like, oh,

so quickly go in and change that. That's too funny. My older son and my dad have a birthday a day apart. So they always come, he always comes here so we can celebrate together. And he turned 83 and he's still practicing medicine, which is amazing. He's still in Florida. He loves it. He and I lived together for the first four years of my life. And then after that, we didn't live in the same house, but he and my mom raised me together. I would see him twice a year, usually during the summer and then either a spring break or a Christmas visit, like a lot of kids do with usually the dad, but sometimes it's the mom. And because I think it was so early on for me, I just didn't know that it should be different. Maybe I did from observing, but I didn't feel a lack. I didn't feel like, oh, poor me, I don't have both my parents in the same house. I couldn't imagine. They're so different. I couldn't imagine both of them in the same house. And yeah, we had this really, what I know now to be a unique bond, very safe place for

me. My dad, he's not an alarmist. He's pretty unflappable no matter what kind of comes up. And not just from me, but in life, he's just that kind of guy. You present him with what seems like the biggest challenge you've ever had. And he's like, okay, well, what do we do? Let's look at the steps instead of matching your energy and getting in there with you and making a big deal out of it. I mean, not on purpose, I don't think. That's just who he is. And so that was always safe for me. Yeah. I mean, what an amazing disposition to have

as a parent. And also, you would have to imagine that that probably flowed through to his work as a physician too. If you were a patient and there was something really concerning you in coming in, just to have somebody who's just like, okay, so here's the deal. Let's walk through it together in a non-hyperbolic or alarmist way. Curious, was there any moment for you where you kind of looked at your dad and you created the feelings you had with him with the work that he was doing in the world and thought to yourself, maybe that path is for me too? Oh, no. I mean, okay, let me preface that by saying I am everybody I know's doctor. Any time, for a couple of reasons.

One, because I was a pill head, so I know a lot about pharmacology just from having to be a chemist while I was in my addiction. But even prior to that and after that, I just gleaned so much from him. But I never thought I'm going to be a doctor. I never thought that for a minute. So your parents go their separate ways when you're around four, as you shared. Your mom, an artist, so completely different disposition. And as you just shared, kind of hard for you to have even imagined them together being just such different people. And you describe person who she ends up with as being almost what would be polar opposite of your dad. Yes, I would say that for sure. The man who ended up being my stepfather, he wasn't my stepfather

right away. He was her boyfriend. And I know so many different things from the vantage point that I have now. He passed away when my second son was born. So the revelations that I've had, I haven't been able to discuss with him or connect with him on. But I know that he was a kid. He was younger than my oldest son is now. He was 24 when he came into my life, which isn't a kid kid, but it's still a kid. And I know that I was dead set against anything that had to do with him from the gate because I had a dad. So there wasn't anything that he could ever tell me, anything that he could show me that I wasn't going to resent and resist because I didn't want him to usurp my father in my

life. So he was up against it with me from the beginning. However, I was five years old. And so what I've also come to discover about him is that he seemed to be a really nice guy to everybody else. He was really well-loved by his family and his community. When he passed away, I was there and the people around him that were there in the hospital room, I wasn't there the moment he passed away, but I was there during, I flew to Boston during that time. And they were saying things like how proud he was of me and how he talked about me all the time. And he had pictures of me everywhere. And I was able to get a lot more compassion for him.

And my viewpoint on him now is that he was not a monster, but there was something about me that unleashed the monster inside of him. And so he and I would have these clashes where I would be terrified and humiliated and angry, you know, as a little kid. And I didn't know what to do with that at that time. You know, I don't know if I were in that situation now, if I would know what to do with that. But then the only thing that I knew how to do was kind of numb out, like just kind of disappear. Yeah. And what you're describing is not unusual with kids who experienced some form of trauma. You had to literally say, well, if I perceive my presence is going to lead to trauma, rage, anger, violence, then I need to become as invisible as possible to try because that's the solution.

Like that is the way that both I survive and I avoid the whole circumstance coming to be. We recently were having a conversation with Vienna Farron who describes this as one of the possible, even when I'm physically there, like as psychically and emotionally not present. Yes, 100%. I mean, not consciously. I don't ever remember thinking I'm going to leave my body now. But I did absolutely say, don't give him anything. Don't give him any reason. So when it got to the point where he was going from simmer to boil, I would slow my roll

and either go disappear into a book or just go into my room or something to thwart what was about to happen. What were your, beyond trying to make yourself invisible, what were your sources of refuge back then? I mean, it sounds like books, reading was one for you. I mean, you've built a huge part of your entire adult life around being a writer. Yeah. I'm wondering if that touched down in the early days too. And if so, like what was its job for you? Yes. It's a very long and complicated relationship I have with books. My parents

met at the University of Illinois. She was 18, so she was 19 when she had me, and she was still in college. And she would read to me from her books, which were Dostoevsky and Gogol and Pearl S. Bach, The Good Earth, and Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. But like, those are the types of books she would read to me. And when I got to be five, maybe six, I started reading to myself out of these books. The Nose was like my favorite Gogol story. Like I read it over and over and over. And I didn't really start reading age-appropriate books until I was around 10 and really understood what my peers were reading and that my books didn't have pictures and they

weren't. I mean, I knew about those books, but I still liked my books better. But then I got into Judy Blume and I can't remember the other authors, but they were authors like the Narnia series and things like that that were more age-appropriate for me and fell in love with those as well. I had a really hard time in school when I got to high school. It was my first public school, and it was quite large compared to the Cambridge Montessori School where I had gone. I grew up between Cambridge, Mass., and Berkeley, California, and I just wasn't making it and I refused to ask for help. So I dropped out in the 10th grade and never, never, I took some college courses, but I never really went to college and never got a degree. So during this whole time,

everything I know is from books. Everything I know how to be is from the books I've read and continue to read. I also wrote ever since I could. I started in the margins of my books, and then I would go to a line a day journal, and then I started writing stories. Ebony magazine when I was little called Ebony Jr., and I won third place in the writing contest when I was 11 years old. And that was just like the most thrilling thing that could have possibly happened. So I have written ever since I can remember and books, I don't know what would have happened if I didn't have them, but I don't know that I'd be alive, honestly, without them. When you submit that piece when you're 11 years old to Ebony Jinger and you hear back from them, I'm so curious about moments like this because I've heard so many stories where it's just like

this fleeting moment, but it's powerful and it lingers and it informs so much of who we become and what we pursue. I'm curious, was that a moment for you where you're like, oh, there's something more to this for me? Oh, yes. At that moment, I was like, okay, here's my very clear path. I'm going to excel in English in high school. I'm going to be recruited by colleges for my writing ability into their creative writing programs. And then I'm going to be this writer on the other end of it. That was exactly what I thought.

That was the validation that I needed to show me that I was on the right path. So when 10th grade comes and things aren't working out for you in school, that had to just played with your mind so much because you had this early validation that said, you've got something here. Lean into it. And you had already framed like, this is who I am. It sounds like almost on an identity level. This is not just what I'm going to do. This is who I am. And yet things start to go off the rails a little bit as early as your mid-teens. Yeah. I understand now that I did a lot of compartmentalizing then and just kind of put that away at that time. There were things that were more urgent at that moment. And I didn't know

how to devote attention to that and not be just devastated by the loss of what felt like a loss of this dream. So I'm sure that I just put it away and carried on with, okay, what's next? I'm dropping out of college. I can't live at home unless I work. So I got to find a job. And then eventually I'll see if I can move out. It was just survival then instead of the dream. Interestingly, you still kind of found your way back to writing in a lot of different ways. It sounds like there were a sort of like a season of your young life where you were kind of navigating like, who am I? What am I doing? Publicity slowly works its way. Hollywood, the entertainment world,

works its way into you. And it sounds like those were, while certainly powerful professions and ways to support yourself, also it's weaving writing back into it. It's weaving storytelling back into it. It's weaving personal narrative back into what you're doing. It felt like I was so lucky that when I was at this other job, someone recognized my writing and recommended me for this PR job where there was a lot of writing and reading involved. I had to read all the trades, the Daily Variety, the Hollywood Reporter. I had

to read every major newspaper every morning. I had to clip out the sections that were pertinent to our clients and put them on my boss's desk. These were not digital copies. These were actual paper and whatever the magazine slick paper is made out of and newspaper in that paper. And, you know, it was probably, you know, grunt work for somebody else. But for me, it was joy. I get to do this and then like, okay, so maybe it's not writing. You know, if it were writing, like this would have been my sign that I should continue. But now this manuscript's been rejected.

So maybe it's something else for me. Yeah. Meanwhile, you know, like the pile of rejected manuscripts from some of the most notable successful writers in history is deep. But when you're young, I think you probably don't realize that. You're like, I gave it my best shot. I got in the door, somebody took a look at it and they said, no, that's not it. I'm curious also, because moving into your 20s, you're starting to actually get traction in your career. So at some point, even though you don't have the book side of it, you are actually going out there and flourishing.

And I've heard you describe how, even from the outside looking in, it looks like you're building this career. Like somebody who hasn't finished their education, but they're out there actually doing this thing. But there's always this lingering sense of, I'm gonna get found out. Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, yeah. I mean, I either lied by omission

and let people think that I had graduated from high school and went to college, or I just flat out lied about it. I decided that Florida Atlantic University and a degree in communications was general enough and specific enough at the same time so that people wouldn't ask questions. So that was my lie. And I had to use that lie to get any job that I got, not the waitressing jobs, but to work for the commercial director, to work at the PR firm. I needed a degree and I didn't have one. So I lied about those things and I got the job. I mean, in a very strange way, I felt like, so what? So I'm capable of it. I'm the best candidate for it. I didn't have the qualifications, but it's like, so what that I lied to get it. I didn't really think it was a bad thing at, but I'm sure that it's one of the things that began to wear on me. It's one of the secrets that I had to keep from so many different people. And I really tried to tell everybody the same story, but I didn't.

There were some people who maybe knew a little bit more about Florida Atlantic University that I had to supplement the story for and add things or subtract things. So not everybody got the same story. And I was very close to getting caught a few times and that was just terrifying. So the story that I thought was harmless, victimless, I ended up being the victim of it. There definitely were other people because I betrayed them. I don't know if it damaged them, but I know it impacted other people and it certainly damaged me. How so? Tell me more. The damage that it did to me was the perpetuation of this life that was not authentic to me. And you know what, Jonathan? I think this is so interesting. What I know now, not just from me for the last almost 15 years,

being honest about my life and telling as close to the absolute truth as I can, but just from hearing other people's stories, especially like you said, during these types of interviews, so much more interesting when there is someone who kind of was like hard scrabbled their way up from nothing to something. Like I didn't have to be the perfect girl who graduated from high school and went to college and then started a company. I would have been much more interesting in my 20s had I started that company the way that I did without those things. But I was so scared of anybody finding that out. Each lie was like swallowing a little poison. There's this thing we talk about in recovery where every kind of dishonest thing you do, every resentment you have, it's like a little piece

of paper that you ball up and throw in the back of the car while you're driving. And then one day you stop short and it all comes flying forward and knocks you out or obscures your vision and you have a big accident. That's the damage. The damage wasn't like there was one huge thing in my 20s that happened, but each time was a little bit of damage and it all came forward at the same time for me. Yeah. It's like you didn't give your young self a chance to actually believe that who you were was good enough to just take your shot and be honest about it and sink or swim just based on that. Merit.

Yeah. Which is, I mean, you can't discount where you came from in how you stepped into that moment. When you come from a life where there's a fair amount of persistent trauma, and then at a really young age, you're like, I need to be on my own to a certain extent. There's trauma, which is then informing survival. And granted, in hindsight, I mean, with years to with years, you know, to look back, you can kind of see the wrongness or the rightness. And as you shared, not just in the impact or the effect on other people, but on yourself. Yes. And what did you take away from yourself by doing that? Having no idea that that actually was happening. I mean, I don't know because I, that's the way

that it went, but I can only imagine there only imagine there were so many things that I could have enjoyed rather than endured. So many times where I could have been present for people when I was scared. I heard somebody saying, and this is true of my addiction as well. And this is a gross analogy, but it's like having low grade diarrhea. And like, all you're thinking about is that while you're in every conversation, like, what's the fastest route to the bathroom? Like, how do I get there as quickly as possible is so preoccupying, especially for me, like the lies and the, you know, the fronting, the performative aspect of my life didn't feel as loud when I was younger.

But as I got closer to becoming someone's wife and someone's mother, it started to get a lot louder. The volume was definitely up. And that's when it was more preoccupying for me. And all I was doing was looking for a way that it wouldn't be. If I can do this, this, and this, then I'll get out of this, or I'll be able to, I won't have to think about this anymore. I won't have to tell anybody that I have a college degree once I'm not working anymore, because who cares? Who's going to ask? Once I'm someone's wife, it's not going to matter. Once I'm once I'm this in this high profile marriage, it won't matter. But it was all just chasing my tail. Like it was never ending. Basically, there was no finish line for me. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever.

It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever, making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest-charging Apple Watch, getting you eight hours of charge in just 15 minutes. The Apple Watch Series X, available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone Xs are later required. Charge time and actual results will vary.

Mayday, mayday. We've been compromised. The pilot's a hitman. I knew you were going to be fun. January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference

between me and you is? You're going to die. Don't shoot him, we need him. Y'all need a pilot. Flight risk. So as you do move into that next season of life, you end up in your late 20s, falling in love, getting married, having two kids. And this is when it seems like a lot of what you've been sharing, it's creating a subtext. It's planting seeds for the way that you would step into this next season, but also it's, to a certain extent, exacerbating something that has been latent inside of you that you had no idea about for the moment that you were born. You end up really struggling with postpartum anxiety and get a script from a doc for Ambien.

Yes. And this starts a really dark season of your life. It does. It does. And that's exactly what happened. I was really struggling and again, just so reluctant to ask anyone for help. Calling my doctor to ask him was, it felt Herculean to me. And so asking for help, if that were one side of the coin, the other side of that for me was shame. Like every time I had to ask somebody for help, I felt ashamed. And I'm not really sure where that came from. I mean, maybe it's that everything we discussed earlier, but it seems like there might've been something specific there for me that I don't recall, but it was baked in from when I was little. I asked him for help and I felt overwhelmed with shame and I went in and I'm almost trying to take it back while I'm in his office because it feels shameful that I'm

so vulnerable and I don't have the answer, which as someone who likes to be in control, which I had to be in order to survive, that feels very vulnerable and not in a good way. Then he gives me the script and I've never heard of the medication. And he tells me a little bit about it. I don't remember. That happens to me in doctor's offices. I fasten on one thing and then the visit's over and I'm like, oh wait, what did they say? What did they say about this? But I kind of go into a brownout. But I went home and I took it and I loved it. I loved it. I loved it. And I knew that there was something wrong with me loving it that much.

I knew that that wasn't the purpose it was supposed to serve. I wasn't supposed to love it. It wasn't supposed to make me euphoric. It was supposed to allow me to get a good night's sleep, which it did. But there was something else there for me with this particular drug. And I write this in the book, like I woke up that first morning after taking it for the first time. And my first two thoughts, first two words in my head were, again, please, I want to do this again. This is an answer for me. If I have this, then I can show up for my life and I can be okay. I won't have to endure. I can live. I can participate. I can be present. I can have energy. Like it felt like the answer to everything for me. I mean, it's interesting also because not just that one particular medication, but that

whole category of somnoletics, when people think about things that might lead to trigger a chemical reaction and a behavioral reaction that leads to addiction. Those aren't the things that I think most people think about. We think about different substances. We think about alcohol. We think about the ones where you take them for the express purpose of feeling euphoric

or escaping whatever your current reality you're in. So it's probably surprising for those listening to our conversation to hear like, wait, that? Yeah. That's because I think most of us look at that whole class of medications and feel like, I don't have a risk of this happening from that type of medication. Right. Which would probably catch you even more by surprise that that would be the effect.

Yeah. And I think most people won't have that type of reaction or a problem with it. I think that the drug I was taking is a really good drug when it's taken as prescribed and given for the right reasons. And I don't think that it was given to me for the wrong reasons. I just think because of this, I call it like the click. The first time I got that click, it was over. It was a wrap for me.

And if I had taken it and it just put me to sleep, I probably would have had a much different experience and not. So, yeah, there's the difference is it started off as not a physical addiction, but a mental obsession for me. And that could have been for something, not a substance, right? It could have been for, you know, someone else, like a lover, or it could have been for food, or it could have been for shopping. It could have been for gambling. It could have been for anything that's like abusable, but I didn't have it for any of those things. I had it for this. And the mental obsession was like, that was a monster that was ever present. It was always, always just kind of whirring in the back of my head, waiting until it could interject and say, so now we can do. Like, now everybody's asleep. Now you can take your pills. You know, get everybody to bed quicker so you can take your pills. And oh, they're going away for the weekend. You can have pills all weekend and that'll be fine. It wasn't even whispering to me. It was like yelling. I pictured on the right side of my head. I don't know if that's true, but like yelling in my right

ear, constant companion. And I didn't want to be rid of it at first. I enjoyed it. It felt like it helped me strategize because I want it to be that 10 minute period I got before I fell asleep where there was euphoria. I chased it. I wanted to enjoy that. Was it the type of thing where you would actually try and stay awake as long as you could before you fell asleep to enjoy it longer? Absolutely. It really didn't work very well. I mean, I only know 10 minutes because that's how much I will have seen of a TV show that I start when I first take it. And then I'll look back and be like, wow, I only watched 10 minutes of this because I remember this only and then nothing

after it. And then I would set a sleep timer. But yeah, I would do my best to stay awake and enjoy it. So if you believe in the physiological, the disease theory of addiction, which I do, a lot of that is also this understanding that there is something that often lies dormant in us, that when a particular substance enters us for the first time, becomes no longer dormant. And that feeling it's both chemical and behavioral. And at the same time, that's not the whole story with most people. There's also, there's something going on in life. There is a pain or often compounding sources of pain for you. Postpartum anxiety is part of what's happening. And this provides a counter to that feeling. Paint a fuller picture. What else is going on in your life at this moment,

which is sort of the opposite of the feeling that this was giving you? Yeah, there was a lot. The Stash has written about a 10-month period in my life in the year 2008. And at the beginning of the book, I've asked for a divorce. I'm unhappy in my marriage. And I'm thinking if it's a divorce or the pills, it wasn't that clear cut for me. But I was thinking probably if I get out of this marriage, maybe I'll be happier because I'm not happy and I haven't been happy for a while. So I asked for a divorce and then I am named parent association president at my kid's independent school at that time, much to my surprise. I have no idea. I'm blindsided by this request and almost say no,

but I decide that it might look good for me during this divorce to be in a leadership position at the school. I'm also asked to join the board at the school at the same time. And that's an honor for me to be asked to be a part of this really elite board. And it's a little bit different now. I'm actually still on the board of the school, but in a much different capacity. But so I was flattered. I knew that these were things that not everybody, not everybody certainly got asked to, you know, be the parent association president or join the board. That was an even more, I can't think of what the word I'm looking for, but it didn't happen very often. And most of the, my peers wouldn't be asked to join the board. But so I decided to say yes to everything and still continue on with the divorce.

And I also had these social obligations like Tuesday tennis. And every single mom I knew had a jewelry line. And so there were jewelry shows that we showed up for each other. And there were shopping trips and spa days and all these things. And I'm saying it, and I'm not saying it ungratefully. And I understand the level of privilege that I'm talking about, but I did not enjoy those things. I do not enjoy those things. And I didn't enjoy them then, but I participated in them because I thought it was the right thing to do. It actually further bolstered my justification

for getting loaded at night after my kids went to sleep because look what I've done. My to-do list is ridiculous. It's impossible. And I completed, there's a check mark next to everything. So who could fault me for taking two or three Ambien to go to sleep that night and more if I woke up in the middle of the night? I really didn't think that anybody would be able to peek in and say, this is a problem if I were completing all these tasks. I mean, you bring up the issue of privilege in this context, which I think is also, you know, it's an interesting and a fraught topic when we talk about addiction, because I think

often there's also this assumption that, well, somebody who is addicted is a certain type of person, or they come from a certain background or a certain socioeconomic class, and that they're grappling with these really brutal things. And that may well be, paint a picture of a certain part of the demo that ends up in some form of addiction. And then somebody looks at the life that you described. And from the outside in, many people may look at that and say, what do you have? What you just described sounds incredible.

It sounds, this is what everybody wants. And yet for you, you're telling me it's leading to profound suffering on the level that you feel like the only way to survive it is to medicate your way through it. Yeah. I mean, it was an extremely lonely existence for me. And one of the reviews of my book on Goodreads, which I'm not reading anymore, by the way, I'm not reading any more reviews. But one of them said, I really love the book, but it was hard for me to feel sorry for her because she has so much privilege in her life. I don't know. I don't get it. That's what it said. And I get that. It's one of the things that made me hesitate about writing about anything from this time period, because am I allowed being ungrateful? Should I have just bucked up

and aligned myself with what was because it's the American dream or whatever dream? It's the dream to have lived a life like I was living. And it was my dream too. One of the things I learned is that privilege doesn't protect you from pain. And I really thought growing up, because we were poor when I was growing up, I really thought once I have these things, I'll be happy. Never dreamed that I would have what I had. I wouldn't have dreamed that big. I didn't even know that some of that stuff existed. But then once I have this 600-foot closet with color-coded compartments and a bench. And I had a full office in my closet. That's where I spent all my time. I was in this huge house. And every time that I didn't have to

be with my kids, I was in that closet because I needed that. I couldn't be in big spaces anymore. I needed to be secret and private. And my world was so small, Jonathan. It was lonely, like I said, and poor little rich girl. But at that time, that's who I was. Yeah. And I think we've seen over the last really five years or so, a number of people who've taken their own life who are very high profile in the entertainment world, where from the outside looking in, it looks like they've got the golden ring. They've everything that they aspire to. They've got, they're traveling the world. They're captains of industry. They're adored by zillions. And yet the suffering was so deep and so profound

that they felt the only way out was literally to take their own lives. And you see similar comments when those things happen with people saying, how is this even possible? They had everything. And I think what so many of us have to understand is that all the trappings in the world don't necessarily insulate you from profound internal existential suffering that we're dealt different hands, sometimes really good and really opportune and sometimes not, but it doesn't buy us out of whatever is happening in that cavern that exists between our two ears. Yeah. It's really interesting in that, that you bring up people who take their own lives because I've been guilty of thinking that same thing about some of these people, knowing what

I know, having lived the life that I lived. I, it's still that welling of, you know, could have, could have done something, could have talked to somebody, don't they know? But yeah, I didn't, you know, I don't know that there wasn't anyone I could have talked to because, don't they know? But yeah, I didn't. I don't know that there wasn't anyone I could have talked to because I don't, like I said, I don't know what would have happened, but there was no one that I talked to pilot's a hitman. I knew you were going to be fun. On January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is?

You're going to die. Don't shoot him, we need him. Y'all need a pilot? Flight Risk. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever, making it even more comfortable on your wrist,

whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest charging Apple Watch, getting you 8 hours of charge in just 15 minutes. The Apple Watch Series X, available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone XS or later required, charge time and actual results will vary. So as you described, there's this year or there's this 10 months or so in a year in 2008 where literally everything comes to a head, your marriage, and also you actually saying, okay, I need to deal with the sources of suffering and also with the truth of my addiction. And you find yourself saying, okay, it's time to end this relationship. And at the same time, at some point during that year saying, I need to go to rehab.

I'm curious, was this just a slow evolution and eventually you're sort of like, okay, it's time, or was there a triggering event? I think there were several triggering events. I'm trying to remember the quote. It's Robin Williams. I was compromising my values faster than I could lower them. That's what was going on. I was like, I won't do this.

I won't ever take an Ambien while my kids are still awake. And then I was doing that. I was compromising all these deals I won't do this. I won't ever take an Ambien while my kids are still awake. And then I was doing that. I was compromising all these deals I had made with myself. I was breaking them little by little, not anything like no major eruptions of anything, but just little enough to allow me to continue on. But still, the accumulation of those was too big to ignore at a certain point. And that point was another event that wasn't a major event. It didn't look catastrophic from the outside. It was just me not being able to keep a promise to my kids to take them

to go see the fireworks on the 4th of July. I was in incredible pain and discomfort from withdrawal. I was pacing myself. So I was going to get what I needed. We owned two homes and the second home was where we went to go watch the fireworks. And so I had left my stash at our home in the city and we were going to the home by the beach. And when I got there, you know, it's like, kids, you got to go with the neighbors to see the fireworks. I can't take you. And I was like, now I can just knock myself out for a little while because I can't do this. And I really thought that I would take like a nap at probably eight o'clock then when they went, because they went to have a picnic and then they were going to watch the fireworks, thought I have like a two-hour window. And then I would knock myself out for the night, like after they'd gotten home and we talked about everything. And what I discovered after they left was that I didn't really even have enough to knock myself out for a couple hours, let alone anything saved, no more stash for the night. And I didn't know what to do. I was at a

complete loss. And there was a, like the strategist in me wanted to like, okay, wait, it's three pills. Let's figure this out so we can make it till morning. But the addict was like, we're taking everything right now and then we'll figure it out. So But the addict was like, we're taking everything right now. And then we'll figure it out. So I took everything and I washed it down with vodka and I took Benadryl to boost it. And that's this other thing that people talk about in 12-step recovery a lot. I was at a point where I couldn't get loaded and I also couldn't be sober. Like there was no place for me. I couldn't get loaded. I couldn't be sober. There was no place for me. I couldn't get loaded. I couldn't be sober.

I was at that nexus at that point. And after my kids got back, I was like, I'm going. I'm going. And I told my mom first the next day. And my memory is that I called around. I later found emails from a friend of mine who's been sober for a very long time. He's actually a friend of a friend. He's not even really my friend, but someone I knew who'd been sober. And I had emailed him that night, no memory of it. He'd email me back, here are some places. And then I called the places that he recommended, but I don't remember that exchange at all. I just remember calling places. Later, five, six years sober when I found those emails, took him out to lunch and thanked him for his part in getting me to the Meadows, which is where I got sober.

And for never bringing it up afterward. He didn't say, see, I got you in there. He didn't take credit for it at all. And I had no idea. Yeah. I mean, don't those moments also, I have to imagine, it makes you wonder how many more of those were there over a period of years where I have just no recollection of an interaction and experience a conversation that they're blacked out of my life. Yeah. It's got to be disconcerting. Yes. but also hiding your suffering, hiding a lot of what was going on with you. When you finally get into an environment, which is literally dedicated to be safe for you to stop hiding, what's that like for you?

I hated it. I hated it. When I checked in, they made me remove my skin. That's what it felt like to me. I felt more exposed than everybody else. Certainly didn't belong there like everybody else. And I did not feel safe. I did not feel safe at all. And it was really interesting seeing all these people who did, who came in and it's like those movies where there's a hail of bullets that

stop at the door once they get inside. And they're like, I was resentful at those people. Actually, I resented that they felt safe there. And I was just like, get me out of here pretty much every day. And at the same time, I was scared to leave because I didn't want anything to mess with custody of my kids. I talk about this a lot in the book, like this drive to stay in my kids' lives. And I always like to just say that no one ever said, like my ex-husband never said, I'm going to take the kids. It was just in my head. And then my divorce attorney kind of fanned that fire for me. Like, this is always a possibility. If you want to keep your kids, we got to do this. But I was never threatened with it, but I was just terrified of it nonetheless.

And so that motivated my actions. When you're in the program, this goes back to one of that original piece and you're like, my daddy's the goat. He calls you at one point and says he wants to come visit. And also there's the question of whether your kids visit you during this experience, which brings a whole, I can't even imagine the layers of complex emotions when trying to weigh that decision because they're young at this point also. Yeah, they're little. And I can't say that I regret anything. It was tremendously hard to say goodbye to them after that visit. And the visit itself was challenging in that I didn't know what to do with them. I really felt like I would die if I wasn't with them, if I had to go for two more weeks without them, that I might not survive.

And then once they were there, I was like, oh shit, I might've fucked up, you know, by bringing them here. Because all they wanted to do was like cuddle with me. Like, where's your room? Let's go cuddle. Let's read to us. Like, you know, all the stuff that we normally do. And they didn't care where I was. They just wanted to be with me. And I knew that there was a ticking clock. Visiting hours were over in three hours and they were going to have to leave me and then get back on the plane and go home. And I didn't know how I was going to tell them about that. I'm sure that their dad had explained it to them, but seeing me might've changed all of that in their heads. Because like you said, they were little and I was eviscerated when they left. I've never felt

that kind of pain. That was the hardest thing that I've ever gone through. Did you have a sense then that you were more committed to recovery after that? Or was there just even no clarity around that because you were just so in it at the moment? I think it's that. It was never my intention to be sober going in there. It was really just my intention to be able to use less and to get the heat off of me. It's another box to check to say, well, can't be mad at me. I did this. I went to treatment for 30 days. I went through the whole program. I have a certificate of completion. So you can't say anything to me about anything. And that's really what I wanted. I wanted that thing ticked off and done. And then I could figure out how to take it as prescribed again, maybe, and get a good night's sleep every once in a while and resume my life.

So when does that change? When do you make the shift from I'm checking the box, I'm sort of like getting the thing that I can show to everybody else, like I did it, to no, actually this really has to happen for me. I write about this moment where I'm kind of delivered one of my favorite drugs by mistake. It comes in a- The cough syrup, right? Yes. I loved it. I loved it. I loved it more than I loved the Ambien. And I wanted to just drink it. That's how I used to do cough syrup. I would drink it straight from the bottle, no spoon or anything. I would just kind of chug a little and then save some and then chug a little and save some. And which is really dangerous, by the way,

if anybody is listening, do not do that. It is potentially fatal. And I did not. There's a scene in the book, and I won't go into it, that with my son where his presence makes me question whether or not this is something that I should do. I've mapped it out so I know that I can do it. I'm like, okay, this and this and this is in place and there's this, so I can, and then I don't. And I think the next morning I was like, wow, could this be something that I do for me and not just for them not just for show basically could my life be better this way because it didn't feel better up until that point I was extremely riddled with anxiety and paranoid and ashamed as ashamed as I've been to be an

alcoholic or an addict I was more ashamed to be in recovery for a few months, especially as a mom. It makes no sense, but it was my truth then. And not just tick boxes and not just have these conversations and not just sitting these meetings from beginning to end so that I can get something signed saying that I've been there. But start to really listen to what's being said and start identifying. And the other thing that is the racial component was all the meetings I were going to were and still go to are really white. Like a lot of the times, kind of like my brand, I was the only one in the room. So I had plenty of excuses why I couldn't connect. I shouldn't connect. That excuse was paramount for me for a while. It was like, number one, these aren't my people.

Right. It's not my space. Yeah. And then they are, which is really confusing because they're exactly my people. And they're my people in a way that nobody else could ever be my people because there's an unspoken understanding. There's also a spoken understanding, which provided a profoundly needed sense of affinity for me, a sense that I didn't know I needed at that time. And meanwhile, as you've described, this is all happening against the backdrop of what is heading towards being an increasingly contentious divorce, which just piles on to whatever stress you're going through. And there's this moment that you describe in the book, which feels like a turning point also where you and your then husband basically say, can we just talk? Yes.

In a moment, you utter these words where he asks you what you want. And you say, you know what you don't want. And you say, I don't want a war. And that becomes a turning point for what seems to become, again, you write about this again, a really unconventional way to navigate a path through where you're so committed to your kids that you say, let's figure this out. Let's figure out how to be really present in their lives. Let's make this as okay as it can be for them, knowing that we each have to honor our own individual needs and paths at the same time, which is extraordinary to

do under the best of circumstances when you're emotionally well-resourced. I have to imagine that much harder when you're struggling with your own addiction and recovery. Yeah, that scene is something that still makes me really emotional. I felt like I was drowning in that attorney's hallway. When you're drowning, you're supposed to follow the bubbles and head up to the surface. And there were no bubbles for me to follow. I really didn't know what to do. I just knew that everything that was happening was wrong. All the priorities that our respective attorneys had for us were the wrong priorities. The division of assets was not where we needed to be focusing. Where we needed to be focusing was on how do we take care of our kids going forward. We couldn't take care of our kids without taking care of each other because kids are so intuitive. If he and I were at odds, we weren't taking care of them. We had to still love each other in order to take care

of them. I mean, and we did. we did. I still love him. He's the father of my children and he's a good guy. He's been tremendously supportive of me throughout this journey. But then it was like, how do we cut through all this and do us? Because this isn't us. And we hadn't been us for so long either. We didn't know what was us, but at that moment in the hallway in our attorney's offices, we realized for that brief moment what us was and how can we do this. And we were, we were unconventional. We had a divorce therapist. I'm sure that's very LA, who's basically like, no, you shouldn't have a key. No, you shouldn't go on these planned trips together.

I don't think you should do breakfast and dinner together. That's very confusing. But he had a key. He came over for breakfast every morning, dinner as often as he could. I kept the kids during the week. He took them to our beach house, which was now his beach house on the weekends. And we took a couple trips together as a family and our kids had a great time. We celebrate their birthdays together. Honestly, like a lot of people at school, because I'm, it sounds funny to say, but I'm really private. I don't talk about myself a lot out in the world. And so no one at school knew that we were getting a divorce or divorced for years. We still showed up to parent-teacher conferences together, at games together. They just assumed that we were still married. Not no one, but very few people knew. And not like we were hiding it. They could see that we were just really nice to each other.

You know, we spoke well about each other. We joked, you know, in each other's presence and we were there for our kids. So they just assumed we were still together. So this all unfolds in 2008. We're having this conversation in 2023. 15 years have passed. When you sit down to write a book, you sit down to write Stash, a memoir about this year. And of course, you've got to fold in what came before it and what's come after to a certain extent.

But with a decade and a half behind you now, when you actually start digging up all of the emotions and the circumstances of that year, when you write a memoir, you can't just write this happened and this happened, this happened. Great memoirs are about, but how did it change you? How did it affect you? Which means you've got to drop back into the emotional place too. I'm so curious how that process was for you. So it took about six months to write. I started writing in November of 2020 and I finished it in April of 2021. I set a schedule for myself, writing from 11 to 7 every day, ate lunch at my desk. And my idea was that no matter what came up, I was going to keep going. And I pretty much did that.

But there were places that required me to, like you talked about, go within and not just remember, but refeel. And so those places would stop me. And like I'm sitting in my chair at my desk right now, and I would push back and close my eyes. And then sometimes I would pace around. Sometimes I would go lay down and watch the Mary Tyler Moore show because it's like, I like it, but I don't have to pay too much

attention to it. It's very distracting. And it's from my childhood, which was always really helpful. Some people play old songs. I watched old sitcoms while I was writing and then go back and I would find myself sometimes being short with people after where I've had to go back to something that was really uncomfortable and refill that I found that I was changed after that writing session after I knocked off at seven. I was not who I normally am. I'm normally pretty happy slash serene, like kind of what you see now is what you get with me. So when I'm altered, I'm always the first to notice and I don't like it, but I just had to let myself be altered too. And I just told the people in my life, Hey, I just wrote about something really difficult and I might be in an

odd mood or I'm off balance from it. So don't take it personally. So there were probably five or six of those moments in the book where I had to remove myself from my office and take some time. I meditated a lot. I meditated before I wrote and I meditated during those times just to try to get my heartbeat regular again and stop the movie that might be playing in my head if it was unpleasant. Now that the book is going out into the world, how do you feel? It's weird. It's so weird. It's kind of like podcasting, right? We're in this vacuum and when people come back and say, oh, I listen to your podcast and i really love it i'm like really that's awesome but i like don't think about that people i mean i think about our

listeners obviously but it's just odd to me when i go to like costa rica or something and somebody's listened to the podcast and they're familiar with it but i don't make it for that feedback i make it because i want to tell these stories and it feels like the same with the book. I wanted to tell this story. One of the most important things about my story right now is that there is a dearth of voices from women of color and stories from women of color in this genre. There just aren't any on the proverbial shelves. They're like digital shelves right now. But if you type in quitlit, which is the genre that my book is, Q-U-I-T-L-I-T, which means people who are looking at their relationship with alcohol or drugs, maybe thinking about slowing down or stopping, you'll see all these white women authors, white female authors, maybe Matthew Perry, but you don't see any black women. You don't see any Asian women. You don't see any

Latina women. So one of the reasons I wrote this book is because I didn't have one for me when I was going through all this. I didn't have a book that I could read. As we talked about, I navigate through books and there were pieces of my life out there, but they were all written by white women. And it's different to have yourself reflected back, to see myself somewhere. So hopefully my book can be that for someone else. So that's kind of what I'm hanging on to as it goes out into the world. I wanted to tell this story regardless of who read it, but if another black woman reads it and finds herself in it, then boy, that's it. That's all I need. Yeah. No, that's beautiful and powerful. It feels like a good place for us to come full

circle as well. So in this container of good life project, if I offer up up? To live a good life is to have as little red in your ledger as possible. That kind of freedom that comes with not owing anyone anything. I'm not talking about finances, but I'm talking about, I don't owe you an amends. I don't owe you an apology. I don't turn my card around when I see somebody in the supermarket, because I don't owe you an apology. I don't turn my cart around when I see somebody in the supermarket, you know, because I don't feel comfortable talking to them because we left it weird last time. I try to stay current with my life so that I really have that freedom to just enjoy and be present as much as possible. I think that's the good life.

Thank you. Thank you. since you're still listening here, would you do me a personal favor, a seven second favor and share it maybe on social or by text or by email, even just with one person, just copy the link from the app you're using and tell those you know, those you love, those you want to help navigate this thing called life a little better so we can all do it better together with more ease and more joy. Tell them to listen. Then even invite them to talk about what you've both discovered.

Because when podcasts become conversations and conversations become action, that's how we all come alive together. Until next time, I'm Jonathan Fields, signing off for Good Life Project. The pilot's a hitman. I knew you were going to be fun. On January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is? You're going to die. Don't shoot him. We need him.

Y'all need a pilot. Flight risk. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever, making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest charging Apple Watch getting you 8 hours of charge in just 15 minutes.

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