The Moon squares the axis from the South Node side, the worn groove you feel from, so the inherited comfort scrapes crosswise against the turn with no give, and the strain keeps returning as a step you soothe yourself right out of. You sink into the old mood by reflex, reaching for the familiar ache instead of feeling toward the thing you avoid. That is not a flaw. The chafe is building something steadier inside the softness. Familiar comfort was never going to carry this turn. The advance steadies the day you stop curling back into the known shelter and let yourself feel forward.