​My favorite iPhone app is Podcasts. I had no idea it existed until a few months ago, mostly because I throw all the useless default apps (Stocks, Tips, etc.) into a folder on a screen I never swipe to. However, now that I am 21 and quasi-mature (I mean, I used the word quasi!), I’ve become more sensible, more learned. You know, the Podcasts type.

A quick background: I’ve always had a hard time falling asleep. I’ve tested and rejected numerous sleep-inducing solutions with little success. Then, a few months ago, I opened Podcasts by accident and found my fix.

​The problem is I don’t like just any podcast. I like a story. Thus, I quickly found my way to true crime. In case you’re unfamiliar, true crime is a nonfiction literary and film (and podcast!) genre in which authors examine actual cases. It sounds geekier than it is—sort of.

I go back and forth debating whether my interest in murder investigations is psychotic or uber-empathetic. I fall asleep to horror stories and play them at the gym. I admit, my curiosity has morphed to fascination through a simple progression: first the podcasts, then the podcasts about the podcasts (yes, these exist), then the Netflix documentaries and the CBS mini-series—you see what I mean.

It’s a good time to be a true crime addict, because everyone with cash and a camera seems intent on following homicide court cases. Over the past few years, true crime has saturated the media via Netflix (“Making a Murderer,” “Amanda Knox”), HBO (“The Jinx”) and, of course, podcasts (“Serial” etc.). There’s also been a rise in realistic crime fiction. For example, HBO’s “The Night Of.” I could also mention the fascination with crime novels such as “Gone Girl,” “The Girl on the Train,” “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” or “The Woman in Cabin 10” (crazy girls!), but I’d rather wear a bionator again (think: retainer but less glamorous).

There is no lack of media frenzy. The internet seethes with opinionated viewers, equally uninformed and passionate. “Amanda Knox” is “your next TV obsession,” “Making a Murderer” “arrived at the perfect time.” The blend of entertainment and crime has become so complex and problematic—but I still want to listen.

It turns out a lot of professionals have studied the emerging fixation on true crime. First, there’s the whole Freudian interpretation of “schadenfreude,” the pleasure derived from other people’s suffering. I don’t particularly love this one. Then there’s Dr. Howard Forman’s explanation that the trend is “rooted in empathy.” Forman, a psychiatrist at Montefiore Medical Center, links his reasoning to the overwhelming popularity of true crime amongst young women, and data seems to agree with him. For example, the popular true crime podcast “Sword and Scale” has a 70 percent female audience. The lure of popular true crime only intensifies with women suspects—as seen in the case of Amanda Knox—a young woman convicted of murdering her roommate. The shock of the female killer who may or may not have been the “mastermind behind group sex orgies” grabbed attention. Journalist Nick Pisa admits to covering Knox far more than others accused because “there was no interest” in the male suspects.

Associate Professor of Criminology Scott Bonn of Drew University claims that “serial killers tantalize people much like traffic accidents, train wrecks or natural disasters.” He adds that true crime “allows us to experience fear and horror in a controlled environment where the threat is exciting but not real.”

So we like rubbernecking, indulging in guilty pleasures at the expense of other people. Real people—because that’s what’s easy to forget. The “characters” seen and heard from are not characters at all. The cases we puzzle over are not invented. We have dramatized crime into a performance—a strange blend of fiction and reality.

Of course, media coverage is not always detrimental. Many of the documentaries have worked to free suspects who were subjected to mistreatment and wrongful convictions. Adnan Syed was granted a new trial after podcasts reviewed crucial findings in his case. The directors of “Amanda Knox” claim the film aims to “understand from a human point of view what it would feel like … to be caught up in these events and circumstances.” Still, I have the privilege of listening to someone else’s tragedy for entertainment, which is pretty horrifying. I am aware of the monster I’m feeding. In some ways, true crime is cruel—in others, it’s educational. It’s also terrifying, because there is always the fear that it could happen to you.

It’s a lot to think about. Maybe if you can’t fall asleep, try a podcast and decide for yourself.