I don't often step out of my comfort zone. The longer I'm exposed to something, the longer it will take me to let it go. An hour staring at a screen makes sunshine feel distant. A day of poetry will make a novel feel like another language. A week of late-night studying makes sleep feel memorable, and a month of this will make rest seem hallucinatory. Years of letting myself slip into stoicism make change hopeless, because I carried on in my comforts when I no longer needed to. I was comfortable with watching my mind and body deteriorate over triggers that I didn't even know I had. I never thought of or even wanted to recover my sanity because I never had a
why.