If Kourtney Kardashian can blog about being a mom on the foundation that she’s popped out a couple of kids, Gwyneth Paltrow can instruct us on the ways of healthy living and whatever else Goop.com is about on account of the fact that she’s Gwyneth Paltrow, and Heidi Klum can spout off weird knowledge of tooth-shaped pillows and diet pizzas based on her apparent prowess in staying skinny and talking about weird things, then Lindsay Lohan can certainly act as an expert on going to rehab and never learning anything at all. After three stints in rehab, it’s almost surprising she hasn’t written a book about her experience, but now she just may be starting to blog about it, according to The New York Post.
But while she can, Lohan most certainly shouldn’t be writing about rehab as long as she’s still experiencing rehab. There’s a reason the Seafield Center in Westhampton Beach, where Lohan will reportedly begin her program on May 2, has strict rules about visitors to the facility and about respecting the confidentiality of its patients. The first rule being to protect some patients who, like Lohan, may be in the public eye, but the second is because a serious journey to rehabilitation requires a committment to changing one’s behaviors, and that’s a very personal process.
The center offers such strict measures as “social setting detox” in order to ween patients off of the other, non-physical cues that trigger addiction. For Lohan, dipping back into the celeb news circuit by telling her story of rehab as it happens seems to be the opposite of removing herself from the world causing all the problems. Instead, she’s just buying right into it.
It’s not uncommon for celebs to talk about rehab after they’ve come through it all to see the light at the end of the tunnel: Robert Downey, Jr. opened up to Rolling Stone about his time in prison and rehab following his raging drug addiction in the ’90s. Demi Lovato went on Katie to talk about how rehab felt like “prison” and how she struggled with being kept from her usual creature comforts and habits. But that’s the point. They both shared their experiences after they got well. At that point, sharing the story is a way of acknowledging the changes they’ve made in their life.
But writing knee-jerk, glorified feelings journals for the entire Internet to consume like a pack of ravenous, judgmental hyenas is not healthy for the hyenas or for Lohan. Rehab needs to be a place of zero judgement, a sequestered glen in which the patients can remove the stressors that drove them to their addiction in the first place. Keeping that channel of communication between herself and the fire-breathing dragon of celebrity gossip culture open is only going to hurt her chances at actually making the fourth rehab stint the charm.
And that’s not even taking into account the entertainment factor for readers. How fascinating can Lindsay’s new schedule of acupuncture, spirituality workshops, and candlelit ceremonies be? We’ve heard the “I want to be better” speech from LiLo time after time… after time… after t-i-m-e. Is reading it again in real time going to make it any more believable? No. It won’t.
You know what will make it believable? Lohan going to rehab without the watchful eye of the Internet, completing her treatment without sharing her thoughts on the spread at Taco Tuesday, and emerging from the process a more centered, thoughtful, careful human being who doesn’t turn around immediately and go back to her old booze-guzzling (among other things) ways. Drop the blog, LiLo. Treat yo self (literally).
Follow Kelsea on Twitter @KelseaStahler