Been awake since five, Tosc stayed over so I refused to get out of bed for a while, spent an hour moulding myself into his back and absorbing up his sleepy heat. He’s so warm, that boy, he bakes like a gingerbread man. I’m up now though, on the sofa, writing this in the five minutes before his alarm clock is due to go off. Everything’s really quiet.
I have the psychiatrist this morning. Not feeling up to it. I don’t know whether to trick her by having a shower and wearing something smart or just fuck it and wear my Big Depression Coat and my Big Depression Hat. Even Tosc is catching on, last night I wanted to stay in one position during sex and afterwards he said ‘what’s wrong, you’re not yourself’. It’s funny, it wasn’t even because I was feeling depressed, I was just tired. Although he’s right, I’m not myself. I’ve been so up and down recently though. There’s always chance of an upswing.
But my mind has become greyer. I was reading the newspaper yesterday, and there were a few articles that would usually engage me and get me thinking…but I found myself totally bereft of opinion. And this morning, snuggled all nice into T’s back, I was constantly asking myself ‘why the fuck is he here?’