I went through a capitalist phase because of my mother. In the 90s, when our economy collapsed, we lost everything. My mum started to do all of these crazy businesses. She was selling cosmetics and I would attend seminars on how to sell your product even though you know they’re useless.

It sucks to write a song and think, “How many years could I get for this?” Two or three times a week, I have nightmares about being in prison again.

Strangely, prison helped my mum and I become really good friends. Prison changed a lot of things in my life and I think one of the most valuable is that it brought me together with her again. Maybe it was when I was in court – and they wanted me to plead guilty and say: “I really want to vote for Putin, I’m sorry, let me go,” and we refused – that she saw the strength of me and my comrades. She saw I was not just a little girl, that I was really ready to stand up for my values.

I wish people could separate the Russian government from their perception of Russian citizens. Yesterday we were flying to London via Frankfurt and there was a passport control guy who was really nice to everybody and smiling, like “Welcome to Germany, have a good flight.” Then we came to him and when he saw we were Russian, he became completely serious and hostile. It’s important to separate us, to know we’re not to blame for Putin’s idiocy.

Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre helped me when I was a teenager. Before I moved to Moscow and discovered Riot Grrrl and the internet, I lived in this secluded town. I was an introvert and a nerd, and Nausea got me through those years.

When I get sad, it’s because I’m making myself sad. I believe we are responsible for our own mood and it’s up to us to control it. As a culture we’ve lost the idea that we can control our mood, because we’re surrounded by capitalism saying “Push this button, buy this thing, and you will feel well. Go here, go there, and you will feel differently.”

On the day Pussy Riot were arrested, my daughter turned four. I had already started talking to her about politics. When I got out of prison, she remembered all the stuff I’d told her. She remembers everything. Two years ago we were in London in a cab. I was talking to her about Bernie Sanders and Trump and Obama and Jeremy Corbyn, and at some point the driver just turned and stared at us like: “What the fuck are you saying, she’s seven?” But it’s just part of her life.

One of the scariest times in my life was when I was about to become a mother. I wasn’t sure I could handle this new life. I was just a kid myself, 18 years old, but it turned out well and we’re the best of friends.

People don’t have to have the exact same politics as me to be in my personal life. Before prison I was that typical, niche-thinking person. I’d just talk to those people who thought the same way I did. But in prison, I was in a single room for two years, with 100 people. You learn how to talk to people who have different views. What else are you going to do?

Read & Riot by Nadya Tolokonnikova is published by Hodder & Stoughton at £14.99. Buy it for £13.19 at guardianbookshop.com