Sometimes I still catch myself bracing for impact, even when everything is objectively... good. Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, a reflex from so many years of crisis. The body remembers trauma long after the mind has moved on. It's a phantom limb of anxiety, twitching even when there's nothing there to hurt anymore. The quiet moments are the hardest to trust, aren't they? Like my brain is convinced I'm forgetting something, some crucial danger sign I should be scanning for. The relief when the 'all clear' stays all clear... that's the new drug now.