Some kids brought video games to sleepovers. Mike brought a boot box full of stolen beer and a water bottle of whiskey. He was thirteen and already doing the math: three beers, Pat barely drinking, more for him. “The Shoebox” is about the last day of eighth grade and the first time relief felt like addiction.
The Chemistry of Becoming Someone Else
By twenty-three, I had become a collection of contradictions.
I could walk into a room and own it completely while privately planning my disappearance.
I could charm customers, close deals, make people laugh so hard they cried, then drive home convinced everyone secretly hated me.
I could spend entire nights talking at impossible speeds about business ideas, God, music, psychology, money, futures so vivid they felt prewritten—and then spend three days afterward unable to answer a single text message.
Nobody called it bipolar.
