I stopped sleeping in my own bed that year. By then, my apartment fell silent and the only sounds passing through my barren walls were the sound of my scuffling shoes in frantic lines and the insistent meows of my neglected pet. I stopped eating this year; food seemed repulsive and far too out of reach. I stopped caring about my physical health, and would only clean up for shoots that I threw myself into. Every night I'd huddle on the too-small-for-sleep couch and count the hours. 12, 1, 3, 6....the world blurred together. I told my friends I had it together. I told myself I had it together. But I collapsed. I was a shell of myself and afraid of my boney shadow. I was still so young then, still expecting the change to my saving grace to be immediate. If I could just get one thing right, it'll all come together. I swear, I swear, just wait on it, everyone.