Summary

Valerie Bertinelli, then: bubbly sitcom star and America's Sweetheart turned tabloid headline and rock star wife. Now: actress, single working mother of teenage rock star, and weight-loss inspiration to millions.We all knew and loved Valerie Bertinelli years ago when she was girl-next-door cutie Barbara Cooper in the hit TV showOne Day at a Time, and more recently when she starred in numerous TV movies and co-starred inTouched by an Angel. From wholesome prime time in America's living rooms, Valerie moved to late nights with the hardest-partying band of the decadent eighties when she became, at twenty, wife to rock guitarist Eddie Van Halen.Losing Itis Valerie's frank account of her life backstage and in the spotlight: the ups and downs of teen stardom, her complicated marriage to a brilliant, tormented musical genius, the joys of motherhood, and her very public struggle with her weight.Surprising, uplifting, and empowering,Losing Itchronicles Valerie's journey as she finds new love, raises a terrific kid, and motivates other women to take back their lives.

Author Biography

Valerie Bertinelli has been acting since the age of twelve, appearing in more than two dozen made-for-TVmovies. Most recognizably, she appeared on the long-running sitcom One Day at a Time and, more recently, on Touched by an Angel. Now a spokesperson for Jenny Craig, Bertinelli was raised in Claymont, Delaware, and in the San Fernando Valley, California, and was married for twenty years to Eddie Van Halen (they split up in 2001). Currently, she lives with her son, Wolfgang, in Los Angeles.

Me: The Quickie Version	p. ix
Prologue: Bring Home the Fun	p. 1
The Vision	p. 7
Tiny Dancer	p. 14
Daydream Believer	p. 20
You've Got the Part	p. 29
Tumbleweed Connections	p. 37
Blue-jean Baby	p. 43
Love Walks In	p. 54
Love Lies Bleeding	p. 62
Doin' Time	p. 71
Feels So Good	p. 79
Runnin' with the Devil	p. 90
Fair Warning	p. 98
Aftershock	p. 106
Sunday Afternoon in the Park	p. 116
Ain't Talkin' 'bout Love	p. 126
Best of Both Worlds	p. 138
And the Cradle Will Rock	p. 147
Hear About It Later	p. 156
You Still Need Work	p. 169
Finish What Ya Started	p. 179
House of Pain	p. 188
Where Have All the Good Times Gone!	p. 196
Black and Blue	p. 204
Going Solo	p. 214
It's about Time	p. 224
Feel Your Way Tonight	p. 232
I'm Fat	p. 243
Losing It	p. 252
Regaining My Life	p. 263
Acknowledgments	p. 274
Table of Contents provided by Ingram. All Rights Reserved.

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Excerpts

Prologue Bring Home the FunSome people measure depression by the medication they take or the number of times per week they see a therapist. For me, it was different. I measured my depression with baked jalapeno-and-cheddar-cheese poppers, the brand that advertises itself with the slogan "Bring home the fun."I'd love to meet the person who came up with that line and ask him a question. Is it reallyfunto see yourself blow up three dress sizes?I suppose they wouldn't sell as many if their slogan was "Pack on the pounds." On the other hand, they may do OK with a promotion that said "Forget your ex-husband" or "Eat these instead of having sex -- since nobody wants to see your fat bare ass."During the cold winter months of 2002-03, when I was makingTouched by an Angelin Utah, those jalapeno-and-cheese poppers were my Prozac. I was on a significant dosage: at least nine a night and sometimes more. At the grocery store, I saw other women looking at me when I loaded the boxes into my cart from the frozen food case. I could almost hear them thinkingOh my gosh, that's Valerie Bertinelli. And look: she's on those jalapeno poppers.It was true. There were nights when I OD'd on those poppers. My mouth burned because I couldn't wait for them to cool down after taking them out of the oven. Other times I savored the taste with tiny, almost sensual bites, drawing out the feeling of comfort and escape I got from eating. The bright smile that served me well for so many years went into storage. So did my size 8 jeans. And my 10s. And my 12s. And my -- well, my weight soared past 170 pounds, the highest it had ever been outside of my pregnancy.Those were some of the darkest days of my life, and I was eating my way through them. By 2001 my marriage to Eddie Van Halen was over after more than twenty years of competing with his rock-and-roll lifestyle for attention. Our fights about his drinking had taken a toll. Discussing and solving our problems used to bring us closer, but now it wore us out. Ultimately, when he failed to help himself by giving up cigarettes after mouth cancer had threatened his life, I knew, sadly, that one way or another I was going to end up on my own.By then I was working and living in Utah eight months of the year. Full of anger and frustration, I spent at least three nights a week on a plane so I could see our ten-year-old son, Wolfie, who stayed home in Los Angeles to be in school with his friends. That wasn't the way I wanted to live or the type of person I wanted to be. But instead of helping myself, I did the opposite. I ate my misery and turned my misery into a reason for eating.Overweight, alone, and horribly depressed, I kept eating poppers and everything else in my path. AfterTouchedwent off the air, I returned home and became a hermit. I hid from the world, hoping no one would see that I'd gotten fat. In reality, I was hiding from the one person who could help solve my problems: me.That was hard to believe. Over the years, I'd tried every diet on the bookshelves -- from the grapefruit diet, to Weight Watchers, to the lemon juice and cayenne pepper fast -- and all of them had worked as long as I stayed on them. But once I stopped, the weight came right back, and, unfortunately with a little extra. While I hate to admit it, I was on the verge of giving up and accepting that I was never going to look the way I wanted to -- or feel the way I wanted to either.I used to say half-jokingly that I was going to give up, move to the mountains, and be the quirky old fat lady down the street with forty-some-odd cats.I'm glad I didn't. Instead I ended up outing myself on the cover of the April 4, 2007, issue ofPeoplemagazine by declaring, "I know what you're thinking -- I'm fat." Publicly, it was the start of a diet where the stakes were total humiliation and embarrassment if I