"you need to rest" he said, like it was as simple as changing socks. like my legs weren't screaming for it, like every cell in my body wasn't vibrating with exhaustion. but the MIND, that tricky bastard, still wants to prove something, to someone, maybe just to itself. resting feels like failure, feels like weakness, feels like letting down a team i don't even have anymore. what am i even pushing towards, really? just a better version of this same ache? i hate that it's hard. that knowing what's GOOD for me doesn't make it EASIER. and that i'm supposed to be the expert on all this.