I spoke to a good friend on the phone, who always makes time for me . . . . someone who has been through very hard times, herself. While talking to her, I forgot about the "dialtone" in my head.

I need to clean up the apartment and restore some order that's been lost over the past few days. That will probably improve how I feel considerably. It won't make me happy, I don't think. That may not be attainable in the short term. Getting back to feeling my "normal" self - which is pretty decent a lot of the time, despite recurring intervals of depression - make take a series of efforts to accomplish small things . . . and not so small things that I've let pile up. When my life is better organized - as in his apartment and mine being straightened out - all problems will seem more manageable . . . which they are.

I have to find a strategy to reduce this excessive sleepiness. I'm kind of okay now because it's late in the eve and that's always when I feel the best, mentally. The mornings are excruciating. Each morning I waje up in a deep trough that I have to climb out of. It's laborious. Then, no matter how good I eventually make the day, the next morning I have to start all over again. I'm almost afraid to go to sleep. I know that, during the night, I will lose all the ground I gained during the day. Each morning, I have to start from scratch making myself care enough to live another day and make it productive. During the night all the motivation drains out of me. I hate having to fight this battle every morning. No matter how late I sleep, it's never enough rest. So I gave in to the false fatigue and have spent the last few days mostly in bed. That just makes me tireder.

If I pick up the house tonight, it will be less hard getting out of the bed in the morning.