From the Edge

Still love to go hard. That hasn't gone anywhere.
Still there, fueled by rush, challenge, burn.
Feels like me, a core of who I am.
I carry the fire a little differently now.

One reckless moment, chasing dopamine.
Burn everything down if I'm not careful.
Thinking one more push, to feel alive,
but can costs days, weeks of recovery.

One trail too far, and suddenly,
I'm crawling back into survival mode.
Body screaming for rest I refuse to give it.

I pause more now, slow down and listen.
Room to stop without guilt, without shame.
Because every future trail, every next step,
depends on the choices I make right now.

Pushing the limits, it's a gamble.
Less willing now without due consideration.
Not here for one perfect push.
Here for the long roll forward.

Fire's still there, learning how to let it burn,
without it being consume me by it.

Doesn't mean I never push.
I still choose the steep trail,
knowing full well I'll pay for it.
It's a choice, not a compulsion.
Not survival disguised as strength.

Conscious gamble, not reckless momentum.

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* peer reflections: not medical or therapy advice. *