Let's talk about it.

Dear Hollywood, The Hunger Games, rehab and plastic surgery. Okay, you're ready to go in?

We're going all the way in.

So all of this, food and perfectionism and Hollywood pressures, boiled to a head in the audition for the Hunger Games.

I was trying my best to tame my eating disorder, but when I received an audition for Catness

and I knew from the books that she was essentially emaciated, I felt compelled to match the description

as best as possible.

For the record, I'm glad that they hired someone

who at least had some meat on her bones

so young people weren't glorifying starvation.

But I still gave my all, and I thought, you know, maybe the reason I hadn't had my

breakthrough moment was because I was playing it safe. I wasn't taking extraordinary enough measures to stand out.

So I dyed my hair black, I got ripped by these rigorous

workouts, flipping tires and swinging sledgehammers. I spent two weeks at the same place

biggest loser contestants go, getting my body fat percentage the lowest

it's ever been.

I clearly did not get the job, nor did I even make the short list.

I've heard tons of talented actors were on it,

like Abbe Breslin, Zoe Dutch, Chloe Grace Moritz,

Chersonen, Haley Steinfeld, Chaneleen Woodley,

Emma Roberts, all the others. Instead, I hit my rock bottom. I was not breaking through. I was not the chosen

one in my generation. I was not the right look or talent or client or something.

...