I nearly laughed when I saw my own reflection because I looked exactly how I felt

Dear Delyara, That was the word that came to mind. Used. As if the whole day had passed through my face leaving a faint trace of every practical thing that had entered me — work, school, the supermarket, the phone, the drive home, the dinner, the laundry, the little decision after little decision after little decision. I don’t think we talk enough about wear as an emotional state. Not broken. Not defeated. Just visibly spent by usefulness. I washed my face and put cream on and felt a strange tenderness toward that version of me in the mirror. She had done enough.