Groundhog Days again.

Life has improved slightly. I've been up since 10ish, and only been back to bed the once, although that was for about 2 hours. Everything does not feel quite so pointless, so that's good. I'm unable to work up much enthusiasm for it though. Last night I had a plan for today, involving making two necklaces and listing them on ebay. None of this has happened. I'm not beating myself up about it though, just feel defeated and a failure.

In the evenings I am usually feeling a bit better. Well, I'm feeling at the best my current level of depression allows. Does that make sense? So, when I'm lying in bed, hoping to go off to sleep I often make plans for the following day. Nothing major, nothing that will move the earth, just something that I think I can accomplish. Then I wake the next morning and feel like shit all over again and like as not I'll accomplish nothing. It's like some sort of evil twisted Groundhog Day.

It's great to feel a little better in the evening and sit with tch, watch tv a bit and have a conversation without looking at the clock all of the time and wondering how soon I can go to bed. But, it makes things even worse when I wake up the next morning and lack the strength to move about. Just want to pull the duvet over my head and disappear. Switch off.

Right now it is almost 8pm, and although I feel okay, I am aware that I actively hid from my neighbour earlier. Yes, they've returned from their holiday and there's been a lot of hanging out of the washing and checking on the garden going on. I had to go outside and bring in our washing, tch is out so it had to be me. I was poised to flee at the first sign of another person. Not good. In the recent past I've been able to hold a conversation with them, so it's another step backwards to behave in this way. I have been building it up in my head about them coming back though, so I guess that hasn't helped.

I'm expecting tch home any time now. Because he's out quite a lot later than usual he's buying fish and chips on the way home for us. He's so lovely to do this. I am such a failure that I don't cook. I forget stuff and make a right mess of it. I know I won't always be this way, but it feels like shit. When someone else talks of their home life it's always the woman who does most of the cooking and meal planning. I feel so useless, I am incapable.