I'm Going Crazy, Would You Like to Join Me?

It starts with a judgmental coffee maker, a neighbor in toe socks who believes in auras, and a squirrel that is definitely not a squirrel.

I was standing in the cereal aisle when I realized I might actually be going crazy—not the cute, quirky kind, but the real, tax-deductible kind. A box of Organic Frosted O's winked at me. I winked back. Then my coffee maker, Janice, started beeping in a tone I can only describe as "disappointed mother."

My therapist calls it "spiraling." I call it finally paying attention.

When a peanut-offering rodent leads me to a hidden key behind my fridge, I discover a family legacy I never knew I had. My grandmother, Karen, didn't lose her mind—she tuned into a frequency the rest of the world can't hear. The walls whisper. The dead have opinions. And the gray people in suits are coming with clipboards to "normalize" everyone.

This is not a book about mental illness. It is a book about what happens when you stop pretending the world isn't talking to you. It's about a grandmother who wrote warnings on basement walls, a grandfather who whispers bad Latin from beyond the grave, and a goldfish who is not a goldfish.

Most of all, it is an invitation.

The door is unlocked. The frequency is waiting.