I was 18 years old. I thought my Mom was putting me in drug rehab because my sister had caught me tripping out on mushrooms the night before. Drug rehab? Okay. I might meet a cute girl or something. So I didn’t feel too bad driving to Minneapolis. Hell, it was another adventure and I was ready for anything to cut through the doldrums of my miserable life. I spent my 19th birthday in the locked unit. On that day I was given a copy of “Raw” magazine/digest. Inside was a chapter from “Maus” and a bunch of other cool stuff by artists I’d never heard of. Blew my mind, which was now swirling with the knowledge that I was now CRAZY. That the emotions I was feeling had clinical names (anxiety, schizoaffective disorder, major depression) and that I was really broken. What kind of future was destined for me now? I had no future.