I absolutely loved this book for its powerful portrayal of the insidiousness of addiction. Beautifully written, STRUNG OUT was hard to put down. Ultimately, Khar's book delivers on hope.

The book was ok. I feel for Erin's struggles and I can't imagine what she went through during those times and what she more than likely faces on a daily basis because of that addiction. The book itself I struggled with parts because it felt very disconnected and like some of the book was just excuses BUT again I can't relate and I am sure that is the easiest way to get through some of the most horrible times in her life. I hope this book was cathartic for her and she is able to help others.

Khar grew up with privileged in Los Angeles, living a life that most others will never have the opportunity to live. So many believe that money can buy happiness, and from all appearances Khar had everything and then some. However, things are not always as they appear to be as we discover while reading this memoir. She began her drug use at the tender age of eight. Was this early beginning due to her privileged upbringing? We may never know the full answer to that question. However, what we do know is that for many years, she used and abused drugs, found herself in and out of rehab, relapsed, and dealt with the shame and stigma of addiction. Some people can break free of this cycle; others are not so lucky. This is a raw and real look at the cycle of addiction. Perhaps by reading it, you can gain some insight into the world of addiction and how it affects everyone involved. I would not wish this on anyone, rich poor, black or white. Thank you to NetGalley, Erin and the publisher for the opportunity to review this book.

Wowowow!!! This memoir hit down deep with me. Coming from a past of my own addiction, and having many cherished family members also fight that battle-some we’ve lost, Erin’s story was so relevant and brutally honest which I think is so important in a memoir.
She is such a talented writer and her descriptiveness made for a visceral reading experience.
At time this book made me uncomfortable, but such is the nature of addiction. I infinitely applaud her honesty and transparency and am convinced that in the right hands this book could save lives.

I don't normally read memoirs but a friend recommended this one. What an incredible story! I empathize with Erin, I have many instances of drug abuse in my family so I can relate to the struggles she so eloquently lays out in this engrossing book.

I worked with addicts for six years through Probation, so I was curious to see how honest this book would be. And it's honest. Khar doesn't pull punches, she doesn't deflect, and she does take responsibility (now) for her choices. This is a great book to help those who don't get it, get it. So many addicts struggle to overcome the addiction. It's hard. It can be done, but rarely is it a "one and done" journey. I appreciated Khar's willingness to share her story in an effort to help other's get to where she is. Worth the read.

Strung Out // by Erin Khar

I am having some trouble getting my thoughts organized for this book. I am a big fan of memoirs, especially the ones that are so painstakingly honest about their pasts. This is my third or fourth addiction-related memoir and they have really changed the way I think about addicts and alcoholics. I have to admit that I used to be somewhat judgmental about these things, as people often are in their ignorance, but these books have really opened my eyes to their struggles. They have turned into real people rather than statistics. As someone dealing with mental health issues and past trauma myself, it is now much easier for me to understand why someone would feel the need to turn to drugs as a way out.

Khar is definitely honest about her story and does not seem to hold back when speaking about the many negative decisions she has made in her life. The prologue starts out shockingly with her 12 year old son asking if she has every done drugs before. This is quite understandably a difficult question for her to answer. Should she be honest and possibly cause him to lose respect for his mother, or should she protect her son for a little bit longer?

I liked how at the beginning of the book she included facts about drug use in the US and how the political climate, expectations of parents on their children, the lack of comprehensive mental healthcare, and other factors can influence a person’s decision to turn to drugs at some point in their life. This made me think (and hope) that more of these statistics and theories would be included in the rest of the book.

But it soon turned into a mostly chronological telling of all the major decisions she has made in the 14 years of her drug use without much further deep discussions on those topics. That is, of course, fine. A memoir is what the author decides it is. It was just something I was excited about and then ended up not receiving.

But despite the many bad decisions she made, there hardly ever seemed to be any accountability and consequences to her actions. Not once did she have a run-in with the police. Her housing situation was always taken care of. There was never a lack of people handing her money, free drugs, rides, beds, couches, love, or anything else it seemed. She had healthcare and rehab when she wanted it and always a home to come back to. She even had access to schooling and a new, exciting job whenever she was ready for it. I am not saying that this isn’t great for her. I am so glad she had that support system and found her way through her struggles. But it is in stark contrast to the stories of so many other people in this country, especially people of color. And while she addresses this herself by talking about her awareness of racism and how people of color have completely different stories without the privileges that she has, it always seemed rather shallow. It felt more like an obligatory mention than anything she thought about more deeply.

I don’t want to end my review here and make it seem like I hated this book because that really is not the case. I deeply appreciate her taking the time to write this memoir because it gave me an insight into a life that I am not familiar with myself. This was a very humbling read. I very much identified with the young girl trying her hardest to get good grades and hanging out with the horses every day. While my trauma did not happen until my late teens, I still understand the urge of wanting to get out of your skin and out of your head so desperately. It also lead me to recognize the privilege I possessed (and still do) that helped me avoid that outcome myself. I am truly happy for her to have found her peace and that she was able to form the life she now has and enjoys. I also really appreciated her honesty with her son in the end. It was a hope I had from the start and I was glad to see it happen.

Thank you to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for providing me with a free copy in exchange for an honest review.

A necessary read for the world we live in today. It is a hard read but full of truth about the addiction struggle. There are many struggling with addiction and I would recommend this read. Thanks for the advanced copy from the publisher and netgalley.

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.

Very interesting read. This memoir is complete opposite of my life and is a huge eye opener into the darkness of drugs and addiction; the struggles to get though it and ultimately overcome those demons.

This was an absolutely amazing memoir to shed insight into what iyer is actually like for a drug addict nothing is sugar coated which is really eye opening for anyone who may be curious about dugs or has every judged someone suffering from addiction. She really tells her story with so much ruth and honesty with all the struggles she faced from an early age.

A gripping raw emotional read

Strung Out: One Last Hit and Other Lies That Nearly Killed Me by Erin Khar
Book review by Collin Mitchell

Like so many of the recent stories about opiate addiction in the United States, Erin Khar’s
journey toward heroin started with a pill. “I pulled The World According to Garp out from
underneath my pillow and read,” she writes, remembering the first time she raided her mother’s
medicine cabinet. She was eight. “After a little while, the heat in my body was replaced by the
lightness of little bubbles . . . . It was the exit I desperately wanted.”

Khar’s experience as an advice columnist for Ravishly is well-suited to turn what might
otherwise be a distressing year-by-year account of addiction into a story that develops
context and empathy toward mental illness and drug abuse. Khar is forthright in her opinion
about our inability to understand addiction: “The stigma associated with opioids, with heroin,
with “being a junkie,” prevents people from reaching out. And that stigma is killing us.
Americans are stuck in a spiral of shame, and that shame drives the vicious cycle of relapse that
many drug users get caught in.” In a culture that tends to conflate pity and prejudice toward
adversity, this could be a helpful guide for the uninitiated in understanding the causes of
drug and alcohol dependence.

For readers unfamiliar with addiction, Khar establishes a rapport which illustrates its
indiscriminate hold on people’s lives. “Addiction spares no one. Making it out is akin to winning
the lottery, even when you have resources and access for help,” she writes, acknowledging the
family and financial support she received from her parents and friends. For Khar, the need for an
“exit” came from a combination of many things: her parent’s divorce, rape trauma, and a strong
desire to maintain the appearance of “the good girl.” “If I just shine bright enough, no one will
notice anything,” she recalls thinking as a teenager, while she struggled with an increasing
dependence on pills and heroin.

The strength of Khar’s story is in its emphasis that her addiction was fanned by a mental
illness which left her vulnerable to finding solace in the most destructive places. Her attraction to
opiates was an effort to forget and no longer exist in her body, something she tried to paper over
with drugs and sex. “I craved unconsciousness,” she writes, about her life before giving birth to
her son, Atticus, who at twelve asks her about drugs. “I did not tell him that, in some ways, the
drugs were once what kept me alive.” She continues: “I knew I must have been doing something
right because he didn’t understand the impulse to use drugs.”

Raised in affluent Los Angeles enclaves, a student at USC, and a part-time stylist, Khar’s
story often feels ripped out of a Bret Easton Ellis novel. Her first taste of heroin comes at
thirteen, and by the time she’s in high school, she’s routinely going to shows at famed
Hollywood rock clubs and dating older musicians, all while maintaining her grades and
competing in horseback competitions. It’s these details which often feel glossed-over, in what is
an otherwise thoughtful and meticulously remembered book. There is curiosity about how she
coped during her first year in college or what her relationships at work were like. These details
could add insight about the stress and shame inherent in maintaining an addiction, but she rarely
elaborates on these particulars. More significantly, the underlying trauma of sexual abuse, the
cause of her addiction, is depicted in vague, sporadic bursts, and it’s hard to determine Khar’s
thoughts on this part of her life. In a particularly provocative scene, she takes us into the moment
of identifying her abuser, but other than confirming that it happened, she keeps her distance and
doesn’t thread the effects of shame and loneliness these years of abuse caused, something she
does so well in other parts of the book.

However, the memoir does an effective job of taking us into the visceral experience of
drug use and withdrawal, and her depiction of a likely near-fatal overdose is terrifying.
“Occasionally, a sharp but distant sound interrupted the quiet,” she writes about a friend’s
attempts to rouse her from her high. “The sound clawed its way in. It made me aware of how
vast the darkness was.” In several scenes in bathrooms, parks, and convenience store parking
lots, Khar colorfully illustrates the cross-over between the haves and the have-nots and readily
acknowledges her privilege. “The more my father gave me, the more extravagant the gift, the
worse I felt,” she writes, remembering a weekend out of town, searching for a new connection in
an impoverished area. “I looked across at the rows of identical brick buildings and watched as
two kids raced across the barren yard. I felt myself sinking into another type of shame, one that
went beyond my desperation for heroin. I make myself sick.” It’s in these moments that Khar’s
writing makes it clear that she was never into this for fun.

Most compelling about Khar’s story is the emergence of the shameful double bind a
person with mental illness experiences as they try to triage their trauma with drugs. As she
makes clear in numerous anecdotes about relationships, especially with her parents, the attempt
to hide mental illness with drugs, while covering over the addiction with lies and more drugs, is a
harrowing and unforgiving cycle. Friendships break apart, and the ones that can’t, are strained
with resentment. After getting an abortion, Khar’s emotions spiral out of control yet she
continues to hide her mental illness from her boyfriend. “But letting him think it was just the
drugs, that it wasn’t some deep-seated dysfunction was more bearable. I didn’t want him to know
how far gone I was again.” Here, Khar beautifully illustrates the premise of her memoir: as a
society we need to appreciate the fact that mental illness is a disease, like all diseases, that’s no
one’s fault. The fault lies in not accepting that it’s real, treatable with understanding and
acceptance.
END

Honest, hard hitting, and difficult to read at times. Khar holds nothing back making this book a rare gem.

**i received an electronic ARC from NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review of this book.

Strung Out is Erin Khar's real, raw, heartbreaking story of her journey to sobriety. A heroin addict since thirteen, Khar shares with brutal honesty the difficulties of getting clean, relapsing, and the pain and shame she felt as she rode the rollercoaster of her life.
We already know that many addicts suffered trauma in their early lives that went unaddressed and led to the development of their addiction. We know that the relapse rate of addicts of any substance is incredibly high. We also know that modern day society (particularly in the United States) does a terrible job of providing support and resources for those seeking to get clean.
Erin Khar is proof of this. Hers is a story that is far too common, whether the addiction is alcohol, heroin, cocaine, oxycontin, or any number of other addictive substances. The health system in the United States is designed to assist the wealthy and leave the poor to fend for themselves, further highlighting the need for a better system to assist addicts who want to recover. From Khar's description in the story, she was one of the lucky ones. Her parents had the money to afford inpatient rehab (more than once), and she was able to finally sober herself up. But, as she notes in the book, many people around her weren't as lucky. Some overdosed, some relapsed, some didn't have a support system, and some were able to drag themselves out of their own darkness.
Strung Out is a provocatively honest look at addiction, and I cannot stress how desperately this book needs to be read by as many people as possible. Perhaps then change can begin to happen, we, as a society, can begin to realise that addiction isn't something that can continue to be swept under the rug. Addiction is an epidemic in this country and it needs to be addressed. If Strung Out can begin the conversation, then even the better. Khar's honesty throughout the book was hard to read, but it needs to be said. Her story, and those who have recovered, and those who are still suffering in silence, their stories need to be told. Addiction is claiming lives left and right.

Strung Out is an open and very frank memoir from Erin Khar. Drugs, sex, lies. This is a girl who had everything - including horses, apartments, and fairly absent parents and turned to sex and heroin instead.

I went through this phase about 15 years ago, reading what my sister called "crazy girl" books. This could be on that shelf. They all have the same running theme - mental illness, addiction, little lost women. Often these are privileged women - with access to money - to turn to drugs.

Khar is open and honest - but it's hard to connect with someone who continually relapse and abuses her relationships with her parents - who continually pay for housing or provide support. There always was a man around. There were always something to pawn. There's a million other people who don't have the support system or monetary resources. What's their story? Did they get a new car before they turned 16? Did they get a horse even though they already had one?

I'm not saying that this is a bad book, it's actually quite good! I think I've just read one too many of these stories.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book.

Memoirs by recovering drug addicts are one of my favorite genres to read. Erin's story felt similar to the memoirs of rock stars - living in L.A., going out to clubs, getting addicted to heroin at a young age, destructive relationships, mental health issues, trying to get sober several times. Erin's is a bit different because she is not a rock star (she worked in fashion design mostly), although she did date several rock stars and actors whom she does not name. Also, the important piece to Erin's addiction is the sexual abuse she suffered as a child that is not validated for her until she is much older. This validation and working through the trauma is a necessary part of her recovery, but not a big part of the book. Erin's story was interesting to read, and she seemed honest in her reflections about her behavior. Her father's money often enables her to continue her addiction and she comes off as a spoiled rich kid sometimes, but she is aware of this and has worked to understand wealth inequality in our society and especially in addiction recovery. One thing that bothered me were a couple of places where Erin lists a string of insignificant dating partners. It called attention to the structure of the story that seemed to follow from one boyfriend to the next. I can relate to your life story seeming to be defined by the men you were with at the time, but I think she could have written this story in a way that was centered on Erin and less structured around her string of boyfriends. Overall though, it was a good read.

Okay. First off I don't understand why I didn't put the two together. The title literally means being strung out so I don't know why I didn't think this wouldn't trigger my past issues I've dealt with myself. Second, with that being said I made it 50% through before it really hit me hard. From the first try of heroin down to her very end. I don't know how I would approach my child either about a past drug use, I think the way she answered it though was very wise and articulate. It wasn't too much info and it wasn't too little. Her answer got the point across that it's not smart to try opiods or heroin. It's a very eye opening book and takes you through her journey age by age and I love that. Great job, I hope I find more books I enjoy by this author in the future.

Memoirs allow us a peek into someone's life and shows us what their hidden secrets are. A story like this is necessary because it'll show you a side to addiction you haven't see, don't understand or pre judge thinking it'll never be you. Read this book and prepare to open your eyes. Happy reading!

<i>Strung Out</i> by Erin Khar is an extremely well written addiction memoir. It is open, honest and at times, really hard to read. It is also the story of the intersection of addiction and privilege, and the ways in which this privilege helped, and hindered, Khar on the road to her hard-won sobriety.

Though it can be frustrating, at times, to find sympathy for Khar (It's hard to follow the story of someone who, given all of her resources and support, consistently makes the wrong choice and you can't help but think about the addicts out there who do not have the support and resources that Khar does.) I do think that this memoir is important because it does show how pervasive the disease of addiction can be, regardless of who you are, where you come from, what your resources are.

I read this memoir in two days. I was glued to it. Erin Khan is brilliant storyteller and her writing is interesting and flawless. But also topic is intriguing and what I saw through this memoir is hope. Regardless of all he falls, Erin had a will to get up and to get better. And this memoire shows that redemption, and rebuilding the life is possible.