31 August 2001, I moved into my own place with Tribble. The constant state of euphoria dropped me on cloud nine and sustained me there. I had a job. I had public transport. I had just turned twenty- one—which would have mattered if I hadn"t been illegally drinking wine since I was sixteen— and, for the first time in my life, I felt empowered. I felt…I simply felt again. Within the first week, I had located a dance studio down the street from me. I took lessons twice a week, worked forty hours, and volunteered at a local cat shelter where I surrounded myself with four floors of cats.
I had nothing and my pay was taken by all of my rent. I didn"t eat and didn"t have enough money to buy food. But that was okay because I hated food. I hated eating. And so I didn"t. I managed on half a sandwic
