For most people, a candlelit room conjures up images of cosseted cosiness and romance. In Ukraine, however, the reality is something altogether different. 

For people living in this country, lighting candles at home is a last resort. It means their electricity supply has yet again been shut down as a result of Russian missile strikes striking power stations. 

That, in turn, means no lighting, no heating and no food. This is the reality that millions of Ukrainians across the country have been living with since the attacks on critical infrastructure began in October. 

It's hard to fully comprehend how it feels to live without the basic services we all take for granted until you experience it yourself. Especially when temperatures have plummeted below zero and it is snowing heavily outside. But I did experience it, last week.

We were in our apartment in central Kyiv when we heard the air raid sirens. We ran for cover – which in our case, is a corridor surrounded by very thick walls – and stayed there for several hours until we got the all-clear. 

Air raid sirens mean that missiles heading in our direction have been detected. It was early evening before we re-emerged. Then, all of a sudden, the light went out. For a moment, I panicked. But survival mode kicked in quickly. I tried to calm down and start thinking pragmatically.

We had already stocked up on candles, so at least I could find my way around the apartment. Very soon, the temperature inside started to drop. I put on my coat. Then a scarf. Then a hat. Then a shawl over my coat. 

After a while my hands and toes, as they got colder and colder, started tingling. I started sniffing. I desperately wanted a cup of tea. I reached for the kettle... and then I remembered I couldn't use it. I also remembered I couldn't use my cooker. So I would not be able to make myself a meal. 

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Most shops, restaurants and supermarkets can't operate during power cuts – although some do keep running on generators. Therefore, it was unlikely I would be able to buy any food or order a take-away. Besides, who would want to venture out into the freezing cold night and train through the pitch-black in search of food, especially with a curfew looming? Not me.

I then turned on the tap. Nothing. My water supply had been cut off. And so had my internet. A wave of helplessness came over me. I realized there was nothing for it but to eat a banana and some biscuits, go to bed and hope for the best. Luckily, our electricity came back soon afterwards, but we had to wait another 24 hours before water and internet was restored. I can't remember the last time I felt so relieved.  

I was one of the lucky ones; my power outage didn't last very long. But those few hours without electricity were enough to give me a profound sense of how difficult life has become for so many people in this country. Around half the population here is living with scheduled power cuts. 

This means households receive electricity for around three hours before it is switched off for another three. It also means people have no choice but to adapt their lives accordingly. They have to carefully plan when they, can shower, cook, wash their clothes and dishes or go shopping for basic necessities. 

One man, Alex, told me he sets his alarm for 3 o' clock in the morning so that he can wake up to shower before going back to bed because that's the only time he has hot water. Another retired man, Mykola, confessed he relied on daily soup distributions from a local charity because his cooker is electric. He says it's the only hot meal he gets on any given day.

For many, it's even worse. We met a couple whose house was completely destroyed during the fighting. They're now living in a small caravan which has no electricity or heating. 

Darina told me she has been suffering from joint problems for years and that the cold was making it much worse. Another young girl, Arina, has been living in temporary accommodation for several months after her house was also destroyed. She lamented that water seeps through the ceiling of the small room she lives in, causing her shoes and clothes to go mouldy.  

The country's President, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, says six million households are still without electricity following the latest round of missile strikes last week. He lists cities such as Lviv in the west, Odessa in the south and Dnipropetrovsk in the east as the worst hit, but adds that many other regions, including suburban and rural areas, have also been affected. The only consolation is that most critical infrastructure has been reconnected, for now at least, including water supply, hospitals and emergency services.

Last week Zelenskyy also announced the opening of what he calls 'invincibility centers' around the country; shelters, be they tents, schools or community centers, that provide free heating, electricity and water for everyone who needs it. Several thousand of these are now up and running and Zelenskyy has promised they will continue to operate until normality is restored. But for many Ukrainians, this is the new normal; freezing cold days, unheated homes and fears of the next missile attack.  

And the worst of it is, there is no end in sight.