Rabbitholed #44: The Unbelievable Life and Death of Anne Heche
She was crazy talented. She was crazy beautiful. She was called "crazy" so often she named her memoir after it. But the one crazy she couldn't reclaim cost her life. The craziness of addiction.
How do you solve a problem like the legacy of Anne Heche?
Thirty minutes before the now tragically deceased actress sped at 90 miles per hour into the residential rented home of a Los Angeles woman who only narrowly escaped with her own life intact—53-year-old Heche appeared to act sweet and childlike to a local wig-store owner who she asked if they had ever worked together, and he replied no, no, they had not, but he would like to. The mother of two and veteran Emmy-award-winner obliged in taking a picture with him, and then was on her way.
Her smile, like it had so many times in her life, masked the secrecy of drug use which in this case was to be revealed cocaine. It masked the secrecy of alcoholism. It masked the secrecy of a death wish that maybe even she didn’t realize she had, although her actions most certainly did.