Look, before you jump on the pity train and start thinking that this is going to be one of those god-awful books where the “big reveal” is that the girl goes nuts and a lot of her quirky, lovable friends in the asylum go berserk and try to kill her, let me just say that It Wasn’t That Bad. People were actually really nice to me. In fact, everyone found me fascinating!

In other words, they observed me. And I observed me, too. It was all very observational. They were trying to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt myself, and I was trying to figure out why I had spent the last three months crying absolutely all the time and at the most embarrassing moments possible, like at my friend Katie’s house while we were watching Bridesmaids. I mean, I completely lost it when Melissa McCarthy pooped in the sink. Katie started to get really concerned then because that is not like me. At all.

Does that sound sane to you?

But after ten days in Crazytown, I finally decided that I wasn’t too much crazier than most kids I know. I was just furious—mostly at my mom, who disappeared one Tuesday afternoon without a word or even a good-bye kiss.

For a while, I worried that something horrible had happened to her. Then I worried that nothing had happened and she just decided to leave. I still don’t know the answer, which can definitely make someone a certain kind of crazy (we’re talking squirrel-stuck-in-a-storm-drain freak-out).

But I am feeling a lot better now. I’m working on Getting Happy. My best friend, Katie, has been doing a lot of reading on happiness lately—like, books on how to Get Happy. (Yes, there are instruction manuals.) Some of the books say you should challenge yourself and try new things. Writing in my diary is supposed to help, too.

Now that I have been certified “sound of mind,” things are really looking up.