Christine was not intimidated. She asked me to tell her about the origins of my insomnia, and I explained that my sleeplessness began six years ago, during the summer of 2010, when I changed jobs and moved on my own to a small studio apartment in Brooklyn. Though I didn’t realise it at the time, I was scared to live by myself and was drowning in my new position. At night, my mind would race with worries: What was that strange sound in the hallway? What if my alarm didn’t go off and I missed an important meeting in the morning? If I didn’t sleep, how would I get through the next day? I’d bomb my meeting for sure and likely get a nasty email from my boss.