I try to cope with everything through humor.

I have a problem with cleaning. It's my release. I get up at 6 A.M. and clean and hoover and mop everything. Then I feel better.

I read in the paper that I'd slashed my wrists. But I didn't.

It's horrible, horrible, horrible. It took a year and a half until I found out that I had post-natal depression.

People say, what is she thinking? I'm thinking: fun; cash; travel.

I've always had an addictive nature.

I have tried therapy a couple of times, but it hasn't worked.