And after all of this time and still being depressed, I am proud of myself for not giving up on cooking. I continue to cook for each meal (even if it's in batches and prepared ahead). It makes me feel like I am doing something with my time, with my day. There is some sort of paradox of progress that is comforting to me. This isn't necessarily what I am hoping to achieve, but daily activities like this, will eventually pull me out enough to have the inclination to catch up at the least.
I am enjoying cooking more than ever and I even feel venturous enough to do exotic dishes, I've never done before.
Feeling better, one meal at a time.
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