It’s official: I’ve hit rock bottom. It looks like this: sitting on my kitchen floor, eating cereal from a mug at midnight because I’ve forgotten to eat all day yet again. The same song on repeat–sometimes Shakira, sometimes the Fugees, sometimes soft piano because that is the only thing that won’t destroy my already weak…

In my early twenties, I learned about skincare the hard way: after one too many days agonizing in front of the mirror because my skin was covered in angry red pimples and embarrassing scars resulting from picking said pimples. I still cringe looking at the pictures from those years: my face ashy and dry, not…