It's been lurking on the horizon since Wednesday, but today it caught up with me. Little things like starting work a little bit later every day, not getting as much done as what I said I'd do, stopping to check my mail every five minutes, getting distracted by webpages I meant to read after I had finished. Today I was supposed to start work at 11am. I belatedly started at one. Today I broke down. I couldn't do what I was supposed to do, didn't want to do it, couldn't summon any enthusiasm for any of the things I was working on.

This always scares me; several years back, when I was in the Sixth Form at Bicester, I was ill for a long time. Everytime I went near the school, I would get light-headed to the point of almost passing out. I was tired all the time, and couldn't concentrate. I just couldn't do anything. The doctors had no real idea what was going on. Eventually, it seemed to go away. But I worry about it coming back.

At about half-past two, I'm still not getting anywhere, and by this time I've managed to convince myself that I'm a total failure in just about everything. That's when I have to stop. Before I break something. Like myself.

I took an hour off, and tried to rearrange things. I did some small things that I had to get done for tomorrow out of the way first, and then went back to what I was working on before the meltdown. It's mostly finished now. Do I feel better? Not really. Because it's going to start over again tomorrow.