In 2014, I was diagnosed with anorexia. I was sixteen and weighed 132 pounds. My nails were blue – my lips purple. My resting heart rate was 34 bpm, and my index finger and thumb created a shackle around my bicep. At night I held my hip bones: I loved them.
At that time, Florence and the Machine (stylized as Florence + The Machine) had only released Lungs (2009) and Ceremonials (2011). I listened to their music religiously. It reminded me of great women who passed from suicide, namely: Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf. The drowning metaphors, the spiritual motifs, the haunting voice, the crystalized sounds – all of it transformed me into a pretentious adolescent. […]