Some days I don’t crash. I just coast. Not checked out, but not fully checked in either. Sliding through the day like a busted shopping cart with one janky wheel. Recovery isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s the slow fade I need to watch for. That comfortable drift toward old patterns, toward half-measures, toward the voice that says, “You’re doing better, so you can do less.”
Not today.
Today I get back in the driver’s seat. Even if I’m white-knuckling it. Even if I’m tired. I’m here.
Still… Still returned. Still showed up. Still said no. Still not drifting off this road.