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It was only as I wrote about it that I began to find paths of access to feelings that were intolerable to me then.

One of the reasons I was so unhappy for years was because I never embraced my emotions and I was trying to stay in control.

My bulimia was my addiction. Hurting myself was my addiction... The music is what saved me. That's the only thing I can trust.

I think for me, food was a way for me to deal with emotional trouble.

I was so afraid of upsetting people, and not being liked for saying something that was not to everyone's taste.

I liked the fact that I was forced to get inside of my emotions and to really try to figure out a lot of what I was going through.

I've suffered too much to hide my feelings.

In treatment, all of the negative things I did were stripped away and I had to start processing my feelings.

I like the idea of contained emotion because I grew up most of my life feeling that way. As an adolescent, people would always say I was not expressive, and they always made the mistake of thinking that I didn't feel anything because I didn't react to things.

For years I had lived in my body half-consciously, ignoring it mostly, dismissing its agendas wherever I could, and forever pressing it into the service of mental conceptions that resulted, almost as a by-product, sometimes in its pleasuring and sometimes in its abuse.