I opened the wardrobe and felt annoyed by every single thing hanging there

Dear Delyara, Nothing was wrong with the clothes. I was. One dress looked too hopeful. One jumper looked too tired. One blouse reminded me of a meeting I hated. One pair of trousers felt too honest around the waist. The cardigan looked like the version of me who says yes when she should say no. I stood there thinking, I don’t need new clothes. I need a different nervous system. Eventually I put on the plainest thing I own because I didn’t have the emotional energy for identity this morning. Just fabric, cover, go. That’s the sort of tiredness I don’t always know how to explain. Not dramatic sadness, just total impatience with the task of being visibly myself.