Although things are pretty wonderful, there are times when I still feel like a walking disaster, when I feel so engulfed in inescapable financial pressure that all I want to do is . . . throw up. Times like today — when confronting great stress with no immediate relief in sight, all I wanted to do was throw up. I thought if I could just purge myself, I would feel relieved.

I did not actually do it, nor have I ever. I can barely acknowledge how it feels to myself and I have only recently told my mother and my cousin T.

I know I have a mild touch of an eating disorder. I do feel in control of my eating, although I could certainly eat more. I can talk myself through the weight things (the constant desire to lose just a little more). I am working on my obsessions and focusing on what my body can do instead of what it looks like. I actually love how my body looks right now, though. It’s just that sometimes I think it could look a bit better if I were thinner and more toned. (I am working on the toning. I am exercising regularly.)

When I felt so low that I wanted to vomit to feel better, I did pilates. It felt like progress.