Shattered Image is the story of my struggle with, and recovery from, a compulsive behavior clinically known as Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD). That struggle has included recovery from bulimia, anorexia, alcoholism, and addiction to cocaine and steroids. I also suffer from clinical depression. For decades, I engaged in self-destructive behavior with the single goal of correcting a terribly distorted sense of self-image, a self-image rooted in early life experiences.  Release date is August 2013. Here is what is already being said about the book!

In a field strewn with myth and fiction, Cuban provides us with an absorbing account of his struggle with body dysmorphic disorder, giving a human face to a scientific problem. In my years of working in addiction medicine, I have seen that sometimes it is easier for a patient to realize the need to seek help when they see themselves in the stories of others; Cuban’s book is an important addition to scientific texts, and we are all the richer for it.”

Andrea G. Barthwell, MD, FASAM Past President of the American Society of Addiction Medicine (ASAM) and Former Deputy Director of Demand Reduction, White House Office of National Drug Control Policy

 “Shattered Image is one man’s compelling and rare account of his long struggle with and recovery from body dysmorphic disorder. In my professional experience, BBD is a condition that is not often recognized, and I am thankful that Cuban is shedding light on the eating disorders, alcoholism, drug addiction, depression and other psychiatric illnesses that can result from it.” 

Gerald A. Melchiode, MD, Clinical Professor of Psychiatry,  UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, Tx

“Shattered Image is infused with relentless resilience in the face of  the eating disorders, addiction and despair often associated with Body Dysmorphic Disorder.  Brian Cuban’s candid revelations of the human spirit’s ability to overcome significant obstacles will strengthen and encourage all who are fortunate to read this page turner.”

Jacquelyn Ekern, MS, LPC
President, Eating Disorder Hope  Fort Worth, Texas

“Having helped people learn to lose weight and keep it off for more than 25 years, I now believe Brian Cuban has had the courage to open an emotional door that will give both men and women a true understanding of how they perceive their body image and unlock that door for a lifetime of success!”

Larry North

Healthy Living Lifestyle Expert, Bestselling Author of Get Fit and Living Lean

“Brian Cuban tackles a subject nobody talks about with honesty, grace, and hope. This book will help countless people.”

Bob Beaudine Author of the best-selling book The Power of WHO & CEO of Eastman and Beaudine

This is the twelfth excerpt of my book  “Shattered Image”.  Shattered Image is the story of my struggle with, and recovery from, a compulsive behavior clinically known as Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD). That struggle has included recovery from bulimia, anorexia, alcoholism, and addiction to cocaine and steroids. I also suffer from clinical depression. For decades, I engaged in self-destructive behavior with the single goal of correcting a terribly distorted sense of self-image, a self-image rooted in early life experiences.  Release date is July-August 2013

A dark room.  Table, desk, chairs.  Being grilled by a staff psychiatrist at Green Oaks Psychiatric facility. How am I feeling? Are you nuts!  I’m Angry!  Do I want to hurt myself?  Yes!  Maybe! Not sure.  Not sure of anything.  What answer will get me out of here?  In the back of my mind, what’s left of the lawyer takes over.  I know that my family can’t commit me but the shrink can.  Proceed with caution!  Yelling.  Accusations.  All coming from me.  I am angry at my family.  They have taken away my control.  What control?  I am out of control.  Anyone in my line of sight is fair game.  The shrink is my enemy.  My older brother.  My younger brother.  They have betrayed me.  They are calm. Trying to make sure I am still above ground tomorrow.

The room is not dark but I am in the darkest of places.  I can no longer face what I see in the mirror.  I want to take that 45 automatic I stuck in my mouth and dry-fired days earlier and blow every window and mirror in my house to bits.  It felt good then.  A release of everything in me. It seemed a good option to end the pain of my reflection.  The drugs and alcohol no longer helped.

More questions.  I lash out again. It’s my family’s fault I am here.  They have no right to take control of what I no longer have any control over.  Blaming them for the darkness is so much easier than seeing the light.  If I can be the shy, introverted, boy and not try to be the person I created.  The story I created. The myth of my reflection.  The love of my brothers calms me.  It’s always been there.  I wasn’t there.  I was thinking only of me. My next high.  My next drink. Without the drugs, what am I going to see in the mirror each morning?   I begin to feel the love through my shell. They are not the enemy.  There is a pinhole.  I am now listening, for a moment at least.  Have to grab that moment. They don’t come often.

See what people are saying about Shattered Image!

I got into an interesting discussion today with  a friend of mine about the value Amazon book reviews. With a book coming out in July, they are something I suspect I will become intimately familiar with.  The discussion arose in the context of a post by George Washington University Law Professor, Lawrence Cunningham entitled “Bad Book Reviews By Bad Reviewers“.  As a point of disclosure,  I had never heard of Professor Cunningham before this.   I have never read and don’t plan on reading any of his books. They could be great books. They  simply do not cover subject matter I have any real interest in.

The gist of Professor Cunningham’s blog post seems to be that there are a lot of book reviews on Amazon.com from people who have never read the book.  He goes on into general critique about what constitutes a good/helpful  Amazon review and a bad one. Where I get hazy is whether this is really an objective, dispassionate attempt to instruct people how to get the most from Amazon book reviews or he is just upset because he got some bad ones from people he does not believe actually read his book(s). My gut is the latter because the post reads more like a rant than providing any meaningful analysis.

I  however do understand where Professor Cunningham is coming from. No one likes to have ugly things said about them. No one likes a bad review of something they poured their heart into and taken intimate ownership of.  It’s frankly a scary thought to me that I will for the first time be totally exposed and open to such critique with no buffer, Facebook block or delete button.  It is what it is.  I made that choice.  If I thought I couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t write.  That being said, Here are my thoughts on the whole problem of fake and trolling Amazon book reviews.

I know full well going in that the following things will occur when my book comes out.  People will read it and like  it.  People will read it and hate it. People will agree. People will disagree.  People who don’t like me personally (yes, there are some of those) wont read it and may write anonymous(they usually are)  Amazon reviews saying they read it and they hated it.  People who are “professional reviewers” may  review it based on other reviews to get whatever jollies they get in accumulating the most Amazon reviews. Being  a”top reviewer”.  Maybe there is a t-shirt or something for that.   That is just the nature of user generated reviews whether its Amazon, Yelp or wherever.  Is it a problem worth getting upset about?  I don’t think it is for books. Why?   Why should I get worked up about any book reviews?   Will it change anything?  Nope. I can’t turn back the clock. I can only put in my best effort in the present.   Here is what matters to me.   Am I happy with what I wrote?  Do I think I will make a difference with what I wrote?   If I help one person it was worth it no matter how many nameless Amazon flamers there are.

In the end, like always , content is king.  That is what drives sales. If my content is compelling people will be drawn to it. If not, they wont. That’s what matters.  Not Amazon book flamers and professional reviewers.  No matter what happens with my book,  I will spend time continuing to do what I love, writing and helping people who suffer from Body Dysmorphic Disorder,Bullying,  Eating Disorders etc.  I won’t be obsessing and whining over negative Amazon book reviews whether real or trolling.  If  Professor Cunningham or any author is upset over negative Amazon book reviews, here is my advice. It works for life in general as well.

 ** UPDATE 3/27/13   Yesterday, I  was alerted to  and confirmed that Professor Cunningham has apparently deleted the string of comment(s) in which he ranted about  “bad reviews” of one of his books.  Not sure it if was the result of this post.  I leave it to the reader to determine how it affects his credibility.

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This is the eleventh excerpt of my book  “Shattered Image”.  Shattered Image is the story of my struggle with, and recovery from, a compulsive behavior clinically known as Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD). That struggle has included recovery from bulimia, anorexia, alcoholism, and addiction to cocaine and steroids. I also suffer from clinical depression. For decades, I engaged in self-destructive behavior with the single goal of correcting a terribly distorted sense of self-image, a self-image rooted in early life experiences.  Release date is July 2013

I distinctly remember the soundtrack of my first crush. Her name was Lori, and we were assigned to work on a project about Israel together in fourth or fifth grade, Or, I should say, I  schemed my hardest to make sure I was assigned to work with her. As obsessed as I was with Lori, I was equally obsessed with music, and that year the song that played in my head on repeat was Peter, Paul, and Mary’s version of “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” Our teacher played it in class one day, and I’d hear the song all over again every time I saw Lori.

 Dream about the days to come / When I won’t have to leave alone

I was always brutally shy, but not always overweight. I started to add a lot of weight that year of my fourth-grade crush, when my family moved from Scott Township to the more upper class Mt. Lebanon. Both are southern suburbs of Pittsburgh. It was the next step up the social rung that many living in Scott had made, including many of my friends. I was excited about the move because so many of my friends from my old school had made the exact same move a couple years before, but I was sad to leave some of my friends behind. The very last day at Nixon Elementary, after we got off the bus, my close friend Robert handed my picture of him along with a dime (the cost of a pay-phone call back then) and told me not to forget him. We hugged. I never saw him again. I walked a mile to my new home and to a new life.

So kiss me and smile for me…

Isn’t that what every little boy wants when he experiences his first romantic feelings and is trying to understand them? He wants his hand held. He wants that warm feeling of palm to palm. He wants a kiss.

After we’d settled in at Mt. Lebanon, I would play Peter, Paul, and Mary on my parents’ record player and feel alone and helpless in reaching out to make new friends.

Though I knew kids in Mt. Lebanon from my old school, new cliques had formed, and I was on the outside. What does an eleven year old do when he feels ostracized and depressed? I ate. I gained weight. I became a fat kid, which only added to my feeling that I was an outsider. It was during this time that I distinctly remember feeling that I was ugly and different. Somehow, defective.

 Hold me like you’ll never let me go…

 My project with Lori didn’t work out as I’d hoped. We’d sit together, and music would swell in my heart. But no words would come out of my mouth. Literally. I just sat there next to her, trying to think of the words that would win her loyalty and affection, and none would come.

To this day, the words from “Leaving On A Jet Plane” reverberate in my heart and take my back to that innocent time of trying to cultivate the desire to have a girl hold my hand.

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