I was becoming physically and mentally changed. Songs had a deeper meaning to me, and every note and every word was embedded in my soul. I wore tight-denim jeans with pink ribbons braided in the side seams of them, and every time that I heard the song, “Sherry Baby,” on the radio, I slipped on my jeans to capture the moment of someone singing about me, or so I thought.
from Sherry Goes Sane: Living A Life With Schizo-Affective Disorder