three hours, that’s nothing really, but it’s an eternity compared to the years i spent blindfolded, just letting the overwork happen, not even seeing it as a choice, i used to wear it like a badge, see how much i can carry, see how much i can bleed without dying, but the dying part always came, didn’t it? the crash was always waiting and now it's just… a little earlier, the alarm just goes off a little sooner. i should be furious, shouldn’t i? at myself, at the patterns, at the way i let it sneak back in, but there’s just… relief, like i caught it before it devoured everything, the relief is a strange feeling, but is that strength too, i don't know what strength is anymore, maybe it's just… noticing, just seeing the wave before it breaks you again. and i can still feel it, that pull to just keep going, to prove i'm worthy of this second chance, but i can also feel the new ground under my feet, the quiet knowing that i don't have to.