For hours I find myself unable to get even a minute of sleep. I simply lay in bed, turn on my side, turn on my stomach, switch the direction my head is in, turn on my other side, then flip back onto my back. Nearly reaching a point of insanity, I glance at the clock—it reads 2:06—then I get up from the bed and wander down the stairs.

Expecting everyone to be asleep, I quietly sneak into the kitchen to search the fridge and pantry for anything to drink or eat. Maybe I am thirsty or hungry. Maybe I am too tired to think properly.

The fridge light burns my...