The first time I felt at peace with myself was in the summer of 1987. Many memories have faded over time, but this one remains vivid. I was 15, and for the first time, alcohol coursed through my veins. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to hold onto that feeling forever.

Nothing in life has ever been as gratifying as altering my state of mind. Not money, not sex, nothing compared to the numbing or the stimulation I craved for my brain. I didn’t know it back then, but I was already living with bipolar disorder. Years of intense emotions lay ahead, waiting to unravel.