The faint glow of a smartphone screen lit up the dark bedroom long after midnight, casting soft reflections across the walls and ceiling. Outside, the world remained quiet, but inside, sleep had once again refused to come. It had become a familiar pattern over the past two years—restless nights filled with thoughts that never fully settled and a body that no longer felt like its own. Recovery had been slow, painful, and unpredictable, and life had gradually shrunk into a quiet routine of medical appointments, physical therapy sessions, and long stretches of stillness.
During those hours of silence, scrolling through a phone had become both distraction and escape. It was not about entertainment anymore, but about filling the empty spaces where energy and motivation used to live. The sense of identity that once felt so stable had slowly faded, replaced by exhaustion and doubt. Even the smallest daily tasks required effort, and the version of herself she remembered seemed distant, almost like someone else entirely.
