I'm not a naturally miserable person so being, trapped, I guess, in this state of melancholy is laboriously exhausting.  I am constantly being told how pale I look, even my mum, who inevitably holds back, mentioned it to me this evening.  Much as I hate to admit it, pale would seem right considering how drained I feel.  Zapped of life.  And usually, from a down day, I am able to pick myself back up to my old smiling self, but it is getting harder, and more fatiguing.  The more tired I am, the more difficult it is to sleep and so I become even more tired which makes me hate myself even more and the more I think about how much I hate myself, the more I cannot sleep.  Once vicious cycle.