I just stumbled across a photo of myself on the internet that was taken during a very dark time in my life. It was taken in 2002, during my stay at the Coyote Rock rehabilitation facility. If I remember correctly, I was about 14 inches tall at this point. This was my rock bottom. I distinctly remember the doctor bending over and handing me this tiny, baby fish, and demanding that I lick the algae off its gills for sustenance. I, of course, refused. I was as headstrong as I was beautiful. And I was so close to my goal of 10 inches and 15 pounds that I could taste it. I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way… even if they could pick me up by pinching the scruff of my neck between their thumb and forefinger.