The sleepless nights came out of nowhere. Almost two years ago, at the age of 27, one bad night seemed to follow another. Within the space of a year, I had learned to dread my evenings. Night time meant fatally monitoring my alertness, watching the clock move from 2am to 3am.

The worst part is that I had nothing swirling in my head, simply adrenaline. I could have found solace if there were objectively more problems on my mind. I could tell myself that this was just a stressful period, but for the most part, my life was the same as it ever was.

I would journal feverishly before bed in the hope of expelling any of these subconscious thoughts, which I feared were the cause of this strange sleeplessness. I meditated in case I needed to calm my nervous system. I had hot baths and read for

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