11/06/2012

 Today was annoying and exhausting and long.  I kind of want to go to sleep for the next six weeks, but I have a genetics exam tomorrow, and a biostats exam on Thursday and a bunch of other shit that doesn’t really matter to me but somehow does.  Six weeks of sleep is not responsible.

I registered for classes yesterday.  Eleven credits so far.  I might drop down to part-time…because I can’t handle going full time.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me (okay, I do) but I just can’t do it anymore.  It’s exhausting, is what it is, and I leave my classes feeling some mixture of boiling rage and an almost-overwhelming urge to cry.

I feel like an idiot, actually.  Like I’ve lost 20 or 30 IQ points.  Vapid.  I can’t focus.  Nothing is interesting enough for me to hold on to for more than a few minutes.  I managed to study for 15 consecutive minutes yesterday, and that was an accomplishment.  Fifteen minutes, without getting distracted and wandering off to do something more ‘interesting.’

Everything I learn, I forget.  I go to class on Monday and I’ve forgotten everything we learned on Friday.  Not just specifics, either.  I forget shit like what chapter we’re on.  The broad subject we covered.  The best I can do is something like “DNA,” or “Regression.”  The rest is just…gone.

And then the prof sets the exam down in front of me and my mind becomes a quiet, blank place that would be very soothing if it wasn’t making me fail.

Well, not fail.  I don’t fail.  Even though I might as well.  Some people in college are happy with Bs.  I’m not. 

The whole not-being-able-to-focus thing is kind of a red flag for depression, and I know that.  Today I looked up counseling’s phone number, and I really think I’m going to call them.  Because the apathy is hard to deal with, and I don’t like feeling like I’m always going to cry, and if nothing else I can get a note from them that’ll say “Please let this individual drop out of college already, for Christ’s sake.” 

I have no business being there.  I can’t handle the stress.  I don’t know if it’s actually more stressful than it used to be, or if whatever’s going on in my brain is fucking around with me, but I just can’t do it.  My left hand is a bruise, there’re healing cuts on my arms, and I can’t fucking sleep worth a damn.  Despite my best efforts.  And maybe I’ll be able to limp through the rest of the semester, or at least until Thanksgiving, but I honestly don’t know.   

Six weeks.  More like five.  Five weeks isn’t that long. 

But then there’s next semester.  And the one after that.

And then I start thinking about alternatives, but there are no alternatives, at least, nothing viable.  I don’t know what to do with myself.  Except sleep.  For five weeks.

But I can’t even do that.