I folded the same jumper twice because I forgot I already had

Dear Delyara, It was on the chair, already folded neatly, and somehow I picked it up from the laundry basket and folded it again like I was repeating myself in fabric. I laughed when I realised. Then I felt tired in that deep, humourless way that arrives after the laugh. Because the folded jumper wasn’t the point. The point was that my brain is so overcrowded now that it keeps losing track of ordinary completion. I am always doing, redoing, checking, carrying, resetting. Nothing seems to fully land before the next thing arrives. Some evenings the house feels less like a home and more like a machine I keep feeding pieces of myself into so it continues looking normal from outside.