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You're standing in your kitchen at 2am, staring at your phone. Your partner's away. You've got the flu, properly got it, the kind where standing up feels like a negotiation. The fridge is empty. Your best friend lives ten minutes away and you know, you absolutely know, she'd come if you asked. But you can't send the message. Not because she wouldn't help. Because asking for help feels like taking something. Like you're about to reach into her life and extract a piece of her t

You apologise before you've done anything wrong. You scan rooms for evidence you've upset someone. You replay conversations from three days ago, cataloguing everything you should have said differently. The guilt isn't tied to a specific moment or mistake. It's just there, a low hum beneath everything, like tinnitus of the conscience. You think this is who you are. That you're just someone who feels bad a lot. But guilt that follows you everywhere, that shows up before you've