Stash My life in hiding

Laura Cathcart Robbins

Book - 2023

"A voice-driven, gripping, and propulsive addiction memoir about a wealthy Black woman on a journey to becoming whole while grappling with issues of substance abuse, race, class, self-sabotage, and love, by the host of the popular podcast, The Only One in the Room"--

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Subjects
Genres
Autobiographies
Biographies
Published
New York, NY : Atria Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc 2023.
Language
English
Main Author
Laura Cathcart Robbins (author)
Edition
First Atria Books hardcover edition
Physical Description
viii, 278 pages ; 24 cm
ISBN
9781668005330
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

In her debut book, Cathcart Robbins details the end of her marriage and the beginning of her sobriety. Both events come as a shock--to the outside world, she's a perfect wife and mother. But her carefully hidden addiction has spiraled out of control. Her adult life has been built on a lie, and the fear of being discovered propels the book forward. This makes for an engaging page-turner despite the heavy material. A sense of paranoia and deep self-loathing contrasts with the author's playful sense of humor. As a now successful podcast host and freelance writer, and with the benefit of hindsight, it would've been easy for Cathcart Robbins to paint a flattering image of herself. Instead, she stays honest about how she felt in each moment, sincerely recounting the joys and humiliations of her early sobriety. Overall, Stash is an earnest and well-crafted memoir that will be especially useful for readers interested in secular addiction memoirs or those looking for sobriety literature that puts motherhood at the forefront.

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

In this vibrant if light debut, The Only One in the Room podcaster Robbins recounts her yearslong addiction to Ambien after pulling herself up from high school dropout to Hollywood PR exec. Spurred by her cratering marriage and the stress of keeping her past hidden, Robbins got high, hid Ambien doses inside her designer clothes, experienced crushing withdrawals, and fished undigested pills from her own vomit, all while growing increasingly afraid she might lose custody of her kids in a messy divorce. Eventually, she checked into a $40,000-a-month desert rehab facility, where she fell in love with a fellow addict who helped her achieve and maintain sobriety. Robbins's characterization of her husband--mostly just a specter playing hardball during divorce negotiations--is disappointingly thin, and the general pace can get too breakneck to let important moments breathe. The story is moving, though, and Robbins has charisma to spare ("If hiding in plain sight were an Olympic sport, I would be a gold medalist," she quips). Readers will breeze through this dishy, heartfelt confessional, but may be left wanting more. (Mar.)

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Kirkus Book Review

A memoir of addiction, attempted recovery, and hitting bottom. "My parents were hippies who, despite their African American heritage, had done the very Scandinavian thing of continuing to parent me after their divorce," writes Robbins, who rebelled by beginning a love affair with an Oakland pimp and drug dealer who introduced her to smoking freebase cocaine. Though she liked it, she eventually quit. "To me," she writes, "the world was divided into two categories of people: failures, aka folks who were stupid enough to let other people see that they needed help, and successes, aka self-reliants like me, who would die before they accepted help from anyone." Later, after marrying a TV star and working as a publicist, enjoying life as a "young, interracial power couple," the author discovered that she merely traded one addiction for the more genteel one of reliance on Ambien. Soon, she was seeking drugs among different doctors and pharmacists, lying to others and herself about her condition, and enduring cycles of feast (when a prescription is refilled) and famine (when the bottle is empty). Sometimes, Robbins hits just the right note--e.g., "being high--really high--is like being completely submerged in viscous fluid." However, the back and forth of repeated scamming attempts, rationalizations, cold sweats, evasions, therapy sessions in rehab, and negotiations over an eventual divorce takes on a certain numbing sameness after a while. Ultimately, falling in with a fellow addict ("Four DUIs….You would think that anyone with four DUIs would be dead or in prison") and committing to rehab broke the cycle. Although the story turns toward at least the possibility of a happy ending, the author is aware that it can all come crashing down in an instant. "We're doing the best we can with what we have, and sometimes that has to be enough," she concludes. Breaks little new ground, but a solid cautionary tale about the dangers of drug addiction and the struggle to overcome it. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Prologue: Stash PROLOGUE Stash For years I've prided myself on keeping it hidden. I hide it in decoy pill bottles in our guest bathroom, I hide it in my coat pockets and my makeup bags. I hide it in the toes of my rain boots and two rows behind the vanilla extract in the kitchen cabinet. I keep copious, coded notes in journals and my Filofax, writing down dates and places. I keep the journals hidden in a rusty locked trunk in our attic. Refill days are like the Fourth of July, or better yet, Christmas. The joy of driving out of the pharmacy parking lot with a full bottle! I sing along with Beyoncé or Gwen Stefani at the top of my lungs as I fly down Ventura Boulevard, smiling back at guys in their cars at stoplights. Why not? Life is frickin' dope right about now. Got me lookin' so crazy right now, your love's got me lookin' so crazy right now... The moment just before I take the first one is always so sweet. I fish the bottle out of the bag and hold it lovingly in my hand before giving it a little shake. The weight is good. Thank you, God. I feel like the fact that I can tell how many pills are in a bottle just by weight is a rare skill set, but I've never quite figured out where it would be most useful--a carnival perhaps? Give me a bottle, any bottle, and I'll tell you how many pills are contained within. I brace myself for the endorphin rush that I'll get just after popping the childproof cap. It's so instant and powerful that it reminds me of the brain freezes I used to get when eating snow cones too fast. At the same time, I am already fearing the moment my beloved bottle is empty again. And that moment seems to come sooner and sooner every time. Excerpted from Stash: My Life in Hiding by Laura Cathcart Robbins All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.