I'm not doing so well lately. Over the past three weeks, I've started sleeping three or four times a day, feeling constantly exhausted and having no energy, enthusiasm or motivation. Whether that's the cause or a symptom of my terrible mood is up for discussion. Well, at least to my counsellor and I, it's a question. The awful Doctor I saw the other day had different ideas. He was one of those doctors who doesn't believe that depression exists. He assumed I was there to have my antidepressant dose raised, and as a result didn't listen when I said that I didn't want that. He even told me "I'm not going to do anything about your sleeping," even though that was what I was there for. I'm seeing another doctor for a second opinion next week.

All in all, I'm pretty pensive right now. I'm trying hard not to compare myself to my peers, because my situation is so different, but it's difficult. My Facebook news feed is full of pictures of exotic locations, expensive instruments and familiar faces on stages. I'm so happy for everyone, but I can't deny that I'm envious too. My confidence is so shot, my voice so weak, that I can't see myself ever returning to the stage. If the primary reason to attend university is to gain a leg up on a career, then my four years at Salford have been nothing but a waste of time.

I've been trying to prepare for a new, improved Joey, but without much success. On Wednesday evening I attended a Teach First event to find out more about their recruitment and training process. It didn't help that I walked all the way from Salford to the Royal Exchange Theatre in the pissing down rain without a jacket. Worse still, a full half-hour during the event was dedicated to networking in a room full of strangers. I panicked, sitting bolt upright in my chair, trying hard not to hyperventilate, and fully aware that I must have looked like a half-drowned rabbit caught in headlights. I must have given a terrible impression for someone hoping to be accepted onto a Leadership Development Programme. I walked home afterwards, got soaked all over again, and wondered what the hell I'd been thinking when I dared to consider a career in the education of children.

Still, to my jaded state of mind this only seems like the tip of the clusterfuck. Dave flipped out when he read my post, and has started showing up to the flat when we're out in an attempt to retrieve the things he's left here. No apology or request for discussion has been forthcoming, so it's safe to assume that no lesson has been learned. Stat's birthday is on Monday and I can't afford a present for him, let alone celebrate in the way I believe he deserves. I ended up having to spend another £5 on food this fortnight after all. The WCA two weeks ago is still playing on my mind. The Islington situation has changed, thanks to recent casting developments at the BBC. I can't stand the Bad Voice in my head alternating between Sherlock and the twelfth Doctor, two characters that I love; due to a lack of alternate personification, it currently has my voice.

What strikes me most about this list is that so few of these situations are under my control. I've ended up internalising the sense of helplessness over all these external factors, and now it seems as though there's nothing I can do to help myself. I still have the same support I've always had - family, friends, counselling, medication - but this is a battle going on inside my own head that only I can fight, and I just don't have the wherewithal to face it.

Anything positive going on seems to pale into insignificance against this onslaught. The gratitude journal I've been keeping seems hokey and contrived; I don't believe in the things I write. The warmth I feel from the cats fades the instant their attention wanders. Food has no flavour; it's an inconvenient means to an end. My extended sleep is full of uncomfortable dreams that provide no escape or relief.

Everything feels so sad. It seems as though the logical side of my head has shut down, and I can no longer tell the things that make me happy apart from everything else. I want so much to change my way of thinking, but I'm paralysed by exhaustion. None of the techniques I've learned from my counsellor are working. Something's got to give, but for now I just have to wait and see what gives first.