You have been absorbing other people's stress like a sponge in a rainstorm, and today your system is telling you it is full. Before you give one more piece of yourself to someone else's problem, check your own levels. You cannot pour from a container you forgot to refill. This is not selfish. This is maintenance.
A creative idea surfaces today that feels different from the usual daydreams. This one has weight to it, a shape you can almost touch. Write it down. Sketch it. Voice-memo it. Whatever captures it before your inner critic arrives to explain why it is impractical. The practical details can come later. Right now, just catch the fish before it swims away.
Tonight, get near water if you can. A bath, a shower, a walk by a river. Failing that, just listen to rain sounds. Water resets your nervous system in a way that nothing else does. Let it wash the day off you. Tomorrow you will be ready to hold space for the world again. Tonight, hold space for yourself.