The past week felt like someone had turned up the volume on my inner world while the outer one kept moving at its usual pace. I wasn’t falling apart. I wasn’t drowning. I was simply tired in a way that didn’t match the day I had lived. The kind of tired that comes from carrying too many unspoken things in too small a space. It showed up quietly.A morning that started later than planned.A routine that slipped because my mind had been running all night.A body that refused to move the way I wanted it to.Nothing dramatic, but deeply inconvenient …
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