Then I overdosed at 28, at which point I began to accept the bipolar diagnosis.

I spent a year in a 12-step program, really committed, because I could not believe what had happened - that I might have killed myself.

You can't really accurately diagnose someone, I think. Or I've been told that.

[My grandparents] were from Texas. El Paso. White trash.

My life is like a lone, forgotten Q-Tip in the second-to-last drawer.

I'm fine, but I'm bipolar. I'm on seven medications, and I take medication three times a day. This constantly puts me in touch with the illness I have. I'm never quite allowed to be free of that for a day. It's like being a diabetic.

Now it's dedicated to my grandparents and to both of my parents. The first book was dedicated to my mother so I thought maybe it was my father's turn, but then I realized that everyone would jump on that and assume I'd had some falling out with my mother, which is absolutely not the case.