Once I get out onstage, it's the same sort of basic production that it is anywhere else. But I might be a little bit aware that there might be people I know out there, who wondered where I was.

With my quick success, I didn't have time to learn the ropes of the music business. Because my first record was such a hit, I was terribly spoiled and I thought I couldn't do anything wrong. I was also desperate to make tons of money because of my responsibility to my daughter. And there was no longer any joy in making music.

If the baby is sick, you won't find me showing up to play my gigs. If I have a contract, there is going to be a clause in that contract saying that if the baby is sick I will not appear.

The thing that helped me come to terms with performing was an anxiety, a desperation for acceptance. There was never enough positive motivation in my life.

A friend hipped me to hypoglycemia, which an article I read calls 'a disease for a nation of sugar junkies.' Who knows how many people in this country have it?

My life was very tenuous last year. My daughter's death, in March in 2007, was unexpected. It was a shock. I didn't know if I'd survive it.

Sometimes when you're overwhelmed by a situation - when you're in the darkest of darkness - that's when your priorities are reordered.