I used to think my worth was directly proportional to the number of tabs I had open, both literally on my browser and metaphorically in my brain. The exhaustion from constantly proving myself, the performative busy-ness, it all feels so distant now, like a bad dream I used to have every night. Sometimes that old guilt still tries to creep in when I'm just 'being,' but I can finally recognize it for the ingrained nonsense it is. It's wild to look back at how I genuinely believed that feeling perpetually overwhelmed was a sign of success, like I was somehow CHEATING if I wasn't running on fumes. The quiet hum of a day where nothing is 'urgent' used to trigger a panic attack, convinced I was forgetting something crucial, but now it's just... peace.