NYpost 2010

Losing myself
In an exclusive interview, Eminem tells The Post how pills took over his life and music


If you thought Eminem’s journey as a poverty-stricken kid from a broken home to rap star made a near perfect Horatio Alger plot for the movie “8 Mile,” the next chapter for Slim Shady is an even more harrowing roller-coaster ride. It’s a tale ready for Hollywood with a built-in happy ending.

Part “King Lear” part “Scarface,” the plot is told on his new album “Recovery,” the man born Marshall Mathers tells listeners that his previous two records — “Encore” and “Relapse” — weren’t his best work. There’s mention of his near-death overdose, rehab and the drugs that landed him there, how his skills as an MC suffered, and how his childhood pal and fellow Detroit rapper Proof was murdered 2006. And of course how his marriage to Kim ended for a second time.
Eminem
Eminem

Eminem, 37, is now enjoying a huge comeback spurred by “Recovery.” He received eight nominations — including Video of the Year for the emotional “Not Afraid” — at tonight’s MTV Music Video Awards. Tomorrow and Tuesday he and Jay-Z will perform at Yankee Stadium in a pair of sold-out shows.

This comeback started when he finally kicked drugs in early 2008. Speaking to The Post in an exclusive interview from his studio outside of Detroit, Eminem reveals the stranglehold drugs had on him and the steps he took to revitalize his career.

Do you remember when you took your first pill?
I took my first Vicodin when I was 24 or 25. I liked anything with codeine in it. It was easy in the beginning. I didn’t have the money to get really involved in drugs. I’d do them when somebody offered them to me. As my career took off and the crowds got larger and life got faster, I reached out for that sh - - more and more. I used it as a crutch to calm my nerves. Especially the sleeping pills.

Now when you listen to albums like “Encore” and “Relapse,” can you hear the effect drugs had on you?

There’s reflection of the drugs in the music. I can listen to songs now and hear how high I was. I can also hear the songs where I wasn’t high at all. But as the pills progressed and progressed, right around the “Encore” album, I think the drug use was obvious.

What impact did the pills wind up having on your music?
They stifled me — they stopped my brain off. I don’t know if I was frying brain cells or what, but I couldn’t think. The drugs also made me lazy.

How did they make you lazy?
I was lazy about everything. I’d get high and say, “F - - - writing rhymes. I wanna sit down, watch some TV and eat nachos — and watch more TV.”

Didn’t any of your friends tell you to get off your butt?

Proof [Eminem’s childhood friend, who died in a shooting in 2006] would call me out on my bulls - - - . He’d say what was on his mind. But as close as he was, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t ready to listen. There wasn’t a person who could tell me I had a problem.

Were you as disappointed as your fans with “Relapse”?
I wasn’t disappointed when I put it out. When I felt that was later, when I was reassessing my work — trying to figure out why my songs didn’t sound like they used to sound. The further I got away from “Relapse,” I was able to hear the problems with all the accents I was using to slip in and out of characters, and how the serial killing didn’t work. The joke was over — I ran it into the ground.

What were the problems?
There was definitely a lapse in personal honesty on “Relapse,” and there’s honesty on “Recovery.”

Did anything good come out of “Relapse?”
It was good because it was a necessary step for me to take or I wouldn’t have been able to make [“Recovery”], so I am grateful in that sense. Hey, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think “Relapse” was a terrible album. I just think the new material is so much better.

Your music’s better now that you’ve kicked your pill habit?
When I got clean and sober, it was like I was a kid again. Everything was new. Not to sound corny, I felt like I was born again. I had to learn my writing skills. I was relearning how to rap. I didn’t know if my MC skills were intact. But everything was fun and suddenly I started feeling happy. I hadn’t felt happy for a long time.

Was there a point when you knew you’d hit rock bottom?
Looking back on it now, I realize my rock bottom was my overdose [in December 2007]. But when I was deepest in the hole was when I realized I can’t do any sh - - anymore. No drugs, pills or any kind of mood stimulant — not even NyQuil. I can’t do any of that because I like it too much.

So it took an overdose to get you to stop doing drugs?
No. After my overdose — less than a month later — I was right back to taking pills again. I was telling myself, “I can take Vicodin again — I’m just going to take a little. Or I’ll do a Valium and not take any Vicodin.”

It doesn’t work like that. In a few weeks, I ramped it up to as much as I was doing before my overdose. I scared the sh - - out of myself. I realized, “Yo, I can’t do anything in moderation. I don’t know how.”

Then what happened?
I finally admitted I had a problem and I went to get help.

Did you go to rehab with other addicts? Or did you get help privately?

I did it at home. I went to my friends and said I really need help, but I can’t go back to rehab [like I did in 2005]. I’m not knocking the rehab system, but it didn’t work for me. I wouldn’t open up — I didn’t really think I belonged there.

What was wrong with rehab?
It was too much craziness. It’s all supposed to be anonymous, but being unknown isn’t possible for me — come on! When I walked into rehab the first time, I felt like I was a cartoon character who walked into a room with real people and all eyes were on me. It was too much for me.

I was still at the stage when I didn’t think I had a problem. I was like, “Maybe I have a problem with sleeping pills, but Vicodin and Tylenol 3 were still fine for a little recreation.” I was bartering with myself and I was in denial. I hated myself for being so weak. I said I could control this, but deep down I couldn’t. I had a problem saying, “My name is Marshall and I’m an addict.”

Has fighting addiction been a humbling experience?
I don’t think I ever thought of myself as Superman. But there were people who thought of me that way, and maybe I believed them a little. With drugs I knew I’d let my kids down. I thought, “What if they looked at me like I was Superman and all I ever do is disappoint them?” I felt weak and knew I wasn’t supposed to be weak.

People say “Recovery” shows strength and uncharacteristic maturity. Do you feel that way?
Oh yeah. I’ve grown up a lot in the last couple of years. That doesn’t mean I can’t still act like a big-ass kid. I’ve been changed by getting clean and conquering these demons — at least for now.

Has there been a payoff for going through all this?
That’s hard to pinpoint. I had to learn to write and rap again, and I had to do it sober and 100 percent clean. That didn’t feel good at first.

What do you mean you had to learn to rap again?
I mean it in the literal sense. I actually had to learn how to say my lyrics again — how to phrase them, make them flow, how to use force so they sounded like I meant them. Rapping wasn’t like riding a bike. It was [as much] physical as mental. I was relearning basic motor skills. I couldn’t control my hand shakes. I’d get in the [recording] booth and tried to rap, and none of it was clever, none was witty and I wasn’t saying it right.

When did you feel like you were back in shape as a rapper?

It was four or five months after I’d been clean when I started to get a glimmer of my writing skills back. I don’t remember what song I was working on specifically, but I do remember getting feeling back in the music. I realized I wanted to do this again.