Even now, rest can feel like a decision I have to defend

Dear Delyara, I can be feverish, worn out, emotionally shredded, and still some part of me asks whether I’ve done enough to justify lying down. That is such a cruel way to live in a body. I know rest is not something I should have to earn every single time. I know that. But knowledge is not the same as freedom. The accusation still comes. The crossed-arms feeling. The suspicion. The question of whether I am doing too little, too soon, too softly. I want peace without permission slips. I am not there yet.