You lie down. You close your eyes. But the rest doesn’t arrive. It lingers outside, quiet, like a visitor unsure of entry. Morning comes, but nothing resets. Fatigue clings, not like a lack of rest, but like something leaking from the inside. You drink more coffee. You still yawn.
The weight arrives without permission
No celebration. No comfort. Just a waistband tighter than memory allows. You don’t remember eating more. You didn’t. But the mirror doesn’t lie. It speaks in inches, not kindness. You exercise, and nothing moves. The body forgets how to let go.
Emotions stop waiting for a reason
Tears fall on a Tuesday, without warning. Laughter doesn’t stay as long. Anger rises too fast, like a match to dry paper. Small things feel enormous. Big things feel impossible. You’re not dramatic. You’re unbalanced. But try explaining that to someone who just sees the mood.
Skin becomes something unfamiliar
The glow is gone. Dry patches arrive like a season. Acne returns as if time reversed. You touch your face, and it doesn’t feel like home. Breakouts map your cheeks, jaw, places they used to avoid. No cream quiets the revolt.
Cravings grow teeth
You’re not just hungry. You’re possessed. Salt speaks louder. Sugar whispers promises. And even when you eat, it doesn’t quiet. Something deeper is unsatisfied. You open the fridge looking for answers, not food.
Hair says things you can’t
It falls more. Thinner strands on the brush. The shine fades. Your reflection flinches. You try oils, vitamins, prayers. The drain still collects what used to be yours. And nothing you do feels enough.
Your period forgets its rhythm
It used to be a calendar. Now it’s chaos. Early, late, heavier, lighter. Sometimes missing. You wait with dread. Or you don’t wait at all. Because when it arrives, it doesn’t bring clarity. Just confusion in red ink.
Libido disappears like a shadow at dusk
You don’t want to be touched. Or you do, but the desire doesn’t live where it used to. Intimacy feels distant, even when close. The spark isn’t dead. It’s buried. You want it back. You just don’t know how.
Energy becomes memory
You once ran errands like they were nothing. Now, even small tasks demand rest. Motivation vanishes mid-sentence. Coffee lifts, then drops you harder. You miss the version of you that could just go. That version feels ancient.
Digestion develops a personality
Your stomach negotiates every bite. Bloating arrives before you finish. Gas, pain, discomfort. Food feels like a risk. You keep track of meals like a detective. And still, no pattern emerges.
Sleep becomes performance
You act like you’re sleeping. The hours pass. But inside, nothing stops. Thoughts multiply. The body stays alert. Morning comes. You pretend it was enough. But deep down, your bones know it wasn’t.
You feel strange in your own skin
It’s not just physical. It’s like watching someone live your life. You say the words. You smile. But the connection is gone. Hormones don’t shout. They change the scenery quietly. Suddenly you’re lost in a familiar place.
Small things hurt more
A bump becomes a bruise. A cold turns into a fog. Pain lingers where it didn’t before. You question your resilience. But maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s the system inside you, forgetting how to heal.
You’re always either too hot or too cold
Sweat appears in silence. Or you shiver under blankets. The room stays the same. But your body doesn’t. Temperature stops being environmental. It becomes emotional.
You start forgetting things you never did
Words slip. Names vanish. You lose track of why you entered the room. It’s not aging. It’s not distraction. It’s the mind drowning in misfiring signals. Memory becomes a stranger with no address.