I Couldn’t Bring Myself to Empty the Dishwasher

Dear Delyara, I opened it. Looked at the plates. Closed it again. That happened three times. I don’t know how to explain what it feels like when one simple household task becomes emotionally impossible for twenty minutes. Not physically hard. Not complicated. Just one more thing my body cannot bear to agree to right then. I made dinner around the closed dishwasher. Reached over it. Worked around it. Pretended it wasn’t there while feeling it there the whole time. Eventually I emptied it while crying quietly. Not because of the dishes. Because I’m starting to feel afraid of how often tiny things are enough to push me over the edge.