Where did your words go?

The word was right there. Then it wasn't, and everyone waited while you hunted for it. You read one paragraph three times and none of it went in. You walked into a room and had to walk back out to remember why. Underneath sits a worse fear. That the sharp you was on loan, and you just gave it back.

It wasn't on loan. The fog is real, and it's temporary. Trouble focusing comes with the territory when you quit nicotine. Your attention is learning to run without it, and that takes weeks, not days. Nothing's been taken from your intelligence. You're running unassisted, and your head is catching up.

A browser with forty tabs open runs slow, especially when one of them keeps playing music you can't find. The cigarette was that tab, running all day, keeping part of your mind on the next one. Your head needs a little time to notice it's been closed. Then all that attention comes back to you.

Give yourself one easy win today. Swap the hardest thing on your list for something mechanical, like laundry or an errand. Let that count as a full day's work. God is patient with a mind under repair, so give yours the same grace you'd hand a friend. Your mind is coming back, and this time nothing's running in the background.