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.