Because you are defined not by life's imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them. And because there is joy in embracing - rather than running from - the utter absurdity of life.

That night I looked up at those same stars, but I didn't want any of those things. I didn't want Egypt, or France, or far-flung destinations. I just wanted to go back to my life from my childhood, just to visit it, and touch it, and to convince myself that yes, it had been real.

Meanwhile, I was doodling pictures of vampiric cougars.

Writing about my illness put me into places. It was very triggering. I had to completely remove myself and practice self-care. I learned to be patient.

Even at age 10, I already knew that I was different from most people. My anxiety disorder was still years from being diagnosed, but it affected me quite deeply. I was too afraid to speak out in class, too nervous to make real friends.

Then I yelled through his door, "It's an anniversary gift for you, asshole. Two whole weeks early. FIFTEEN YEARS IS BIG METAL CHICKENS.

One of the most important things I learned is forging a rapport with someone at your insurance company. Know their names. You'll eventually get someone who will tell you, "This is how you do an appeal. This is what you need to say in your letter. " You can also always go to the ER to get whatever you need to tide you over for a few days.