This is where it all really started. I couldn't sleep the entire summer of 2013, I felt restless and wrong. I had to wait for my parents to go to bed before I could creep across squeaky floorboards to my desk, flip on a light and pick up a pen. I would often dissociate long into the night, focusing only on the detail of the moment. I'd wake in the afternoon to find haunting eyes staring back at me from the page. I didn't know it then, but I was waking up to my ability to transform pain into images. No words were involved, and I certainly didn't understand what was happening, but I knew I needed those late nights like an addict. It helped, a bit.