Picture it: Charleston, West Virginia, June 20, 1995. I’ve just turned fourteen, and in an eerily prescient diary entry, I express my ambitions to be a mentally ill person. Spoiler alert: I eventually get my diagnosis, and it’s not nearly as easy or glamorous as I’d hoped.
In January of 1997, I am sixteen and my world is getting a little gnarlier. Themes include: teen pregnancy, suicide, drugs and um…Broadway musicals?