I cleaned the house this morning, made up a loaf of sourdough bread, did some laundry, exercised on my exercise bike. I was productive and I did the stuff that's supposed to make me feel good, none of it helped. I still had a cry while I was in the shower.
The black dog is snapping at my heels again and I am so tired of dealing with this horrible disease. It never ends.
I know it will pass. It always does but I hate it when it's here. The world turns grey, everything is hard. The joy is gone.