From the outside, it can look small. From the inside it is enormous.
From the outside, it can look small: a door tried twice, a message read again, a question asked one more time. From the inside it is enormous. The doubt arrives, the dread rises with it, and there is one thing that reliably brings relief, so you do it. The relief is real. It is also brief. Within the hour, sometimes within the minute, the doubt is back, and it has learned to ask for a little more each time.
Much of it may be invisible. Not everyone checks locks; many people check inwardly, replaying conversations, reviewing what they did or might have done, silently testing themselves, going over it again on the drive home. And for many, the thoughts themselves are the heaviest part: arriving uninvited, unwanted, sometimes about things you have never told anyone. Living this way is exhausting in a manner that is hard to convey to someone who has not lived it, because the effort is constant and almost none of it shows.
