Reread the same passage three times tonight

Not because it was difficult — because I kept catching myself skimming and circling back, trying to actually land on it. The third time through I realized I wasn't reading the words, I was watching myself read them, like someone else had taken the wheel. It used to feel like a peaceful ritual, rereading in the kitchen at night. Lately it feels more like a pulse-check, and I can't tell if that's okay or if I'm losing something.