I Should Be Dead
By the time I was 14, I had lost my family, my friends, my neighborhood, anything familiar and had been raped 3 times. I had tried every drug available, overdosed, left for dead, did not see any white light, woke up and decided to make my own life. By 15 I had an apartment in Marin County, put myself through High School, earned straight A's, put myself through college playing poker (earned straight A's) then ended up in Hollywood to pursue fragmented dreams. During this time I was sleeping with my professor, his wife, his best friend and his brother. When you come from a broken home, this all seems normal.
After breaking from this pack, I started dating what seemed more reasonable men. An attorney that I never slept with but fed my intellectual desires, a Malibu surfer boy who supplied me with drugs and never had anything to say and a movie executive who had no idea what I was doing in the background, but provided a kind of legitimacy to my existence. By 22 I was Vice President of a film company. But addictions are addictions, and in less than a year I was stoned all day and all night on mixes of cocaine, vodka and fake quaaludes. Yet, I was a star at work. In various stupors, I would cold call prominent producers and set up meetings, which resulted in big films.
"You will be the next Sherry Lansing," is something I heard a lot. And I had heard a rumor she started out as a whore so maybe I was on the right track.
Nonetheless I found the job tedious, the films worse and really just wanted to stay as high as possible for as long as possible. In some sort of black out, I had sublet my apartment, left my overheated car on a freeway and never returned to work. Though I should mention that while at that job I helped myself to many wallets that men left in the suit coats when they went to lunch. A girl can't live on a Hollywood salary and afford good cocaine.
(to be continued)