It’s official: I sleep more than your average housecat

If I had bigger balls, I’d bring a pillow and a binky to work and sleep during my lunch hour. My ass has been exhausted lately. Not just physically tired – lay down on cold wet concrete and fall asleep tired. I came home Friday night and by 6:30 p.m. I was in the land of Nod. Right now, all I want to do is get home so I can sleep from 6:30 – 8:30 and then get up and have dinner and marvel at the meth heads on Intervention while I sip a cocktail.

(I’d be remiss if I mentioned Intervention and didn’t post this gem:)

I just feel fizzled lately. Everything’s fizzling. My practically non-existent energy level has left the building. My ability to give much of a fuck about anything has also gone bye-bye. To say I am feeling anti-social is an understatement. I had to make myself go to the grocery store on Sunday. (The thought of suffering a whole week without my organic 1% milk was my motivator.) And even Paolo and I are fizzling. Yes, you read that right.

Now that he’s working (sometimes 12, 13 hours a day) I just assume that I won’t see him. Even on the weekends, when he doesn’t work, BabyMama usually does. Or wants to go out. So he’s on Daddy duty. I mean, it’s probably been over a month. And I haven’t gotten my shit hot about it. Don’t get me wrong; it’d be nice to see him. But I’m just as happy sitting in my shorts and t-shirt with no make-up and watching reruns of SVU while corporal cuddling Butters. It feels like we’re sort of fading. And that’s okay. Maybe it’s normal.

I’m shocked by how little of a shit I give about things anymore. And yet, I’ll wake up at 3 a.m. and stay awake for an hour (against my will) fretting over shit in my head. It’s like I can’t turn off my brain. Then I drift back off until 6 a.m. or so. Same thing. And then when my alarm goes off at 8:20, I feel like a band of dudes sneaked into my apartment and flogged me, soap-in-a-sock style, a la Full Metal Jacket. I often awake feeling like I haven’t slept at all.

A co-worker just claims he was diagnosed with adrenal failure after taking some 30 minute test where he blew into a tube or something. I’ve looked it up online and the Mayo Clinic sort of pooh-poohs the entire idea of it, but I thought I’d throw it out there to see if any of you knew anything about it or had any opinions. I’ve long thought I had fibromyalgia, but one doctor I went to told me I didn’t (because I tested negative for any/all autoimmune disorders, of which fibromyalgia is one), so I had no choice but to believe her. Still, I’ve heard that’s a tricky thing to diagnose, and that some people wind up seeing 10 different doctors until they’re properly diagnosed and treated.

My new shrink, Benji, has even talked about putting me on Adderall. Fun! Now Lindsey Lohan and I can hang out. Maybe Demi and I can sneak into frat parties and do whip-its together! *sigh* I’ve actually been on Adderall before – my Russian shrink from many moons ago who was convinced I had ADD gave me a boatload of it. Trouble was, he decided that was the most important thing to treat – not my depression or anxiety. You can’t give Adderall to someone who is depressed with a tendency toward anxiety if they’re not being treated for it. But he did. And I was a basket case. Didn’t like it much at all, though taking it now might yield a different result.

The thing is, I don’t feel motivated to do anything. My fucking Christmas tree is *still* up. Dishes sat in my sink for 9 days before I washed them. I ate off a serving platter last night because all my plates were in the dishwasher. This is not normal. This is not human. Being this tired, this exhausted, this sleepy, this unmotivated. Because I don’t want to be this way. If I had a little more energy, and needed less sleep, maybe I’d get out more. Maybe I’d get bursts of wind and swirl around and get shit accomplished. I am so, so envious of my friends who, like, hike and chase after toddlers and run half marathons and have clean homes. I have no one to look out after except myself, and even that seems to be over my head. So lazy.

Part of me thinks my weight is a culprit, and I agree – it’s not helping. But I’ve been 40, 50, 80 lbs thinner and had similar maladies and complaints. I’m back on my thyroid and anti-depressants (for the most part) so I should expect to be feeling better on that front.

I honestly think I am on God’s timing here, because I would be a horrible mother right now if I had children. I wouldn’t want to do anything with them, or play games or cook them meals. I would stick them in a playpen while I napped. I’d skip bath time and put them to bed dirty with snot caked on their nose and a diaper full of piss. See?! Wretched.