hello. my name is kt...

...and I am a sleepoholic.

ok. well... maybe I'm just projecting my larger issues onto my intense desire to sleep in. I guess I'm not really a sleepoholic, but if there was a name for it... I'd feel a little better about myself. it's a lot easier to say that I have am just built that way; I'm hard wired to crave the depths of dreamland. it's so much easier to say that than, "I'm lazy." or "I have no work ethic." or "I can't face another day." or my personal favorite... "I just don't give a shit."

my das, bless his soul, has tried to help me. it must be so hard for him to get through the random mental breakdowns that happen at 1am. the ones where I say that I'm no good... I've wasted the opportunities that were given to me... I could be so much more than I am. he's getting pretty good at it though. I mean, it's the same thing every time. because nothing ever changes. I hit the bottom (though I'm sure I could go lower)... I have a "revelation"... I cry... I say it's going to get better.

lather, rinse and repeat.

I'm far too tempted to give up. not from the grand expanse of life... goodness NO! I mean... that it's so much more comfortable to be... sad and miserable. putting on a happy face for the public, but "knowing" that deep down that I just can't do it for real. not for extended periods of time.

well. yes... I know I have a fantastic husband who supports me in everything that I do and loves me unconditionally and selflessly puts up with all my bullshit. and yeah, I know that even though my family's a little fucked up... they love me and miss me when I'm gone, which is almost always. I am aware that I have a roof over my head... OUR house that we bought and have made our home. my pets? I know they are the greatest ever. well, yeah, I have a job... it's not the greatest, but it occasionally challenges me mentally and I have gained the respect of my coworkers for my skill set. oh and my friends? they are many... and they love me... and as far as I know they'll always be there for me.

so what's your point? don't you realize that deep down I know I am lucky. I have a fabulous life. but it's not the life that I expected. I was supposed to be a scientist. I was supposed to be a medical examiner, even (until my dad talked me out of it because he said that profession had one of the highest suicide rates). I wasn't supposed to be on academic probation. I wasn't supposed to be kicked out of the honors program for low grades. I was supposed to go to graduate school. I am smart, damn it. I shouldn't be losing my edge at age twenty-seven (or earlier). so what the hell happened?

I make fun of das for not being able to accept change. but obviously it is I who cannot move past the past. so how do I do that? therapy? too expensive and I'm a bit jaded in the therapy department. drugs? I guess... but das is anti-drug and I'd like to respect his wishes. besides, I can barely remember to take my regularly scheduled meds as is... and my tum doesnt really like meds. aren't those my only two options? what else am I supposed to do. I need help. and I don't know where to go.

oh, and I think I know the name... it's called depressed. at least I think so. 'cause that's how I feel.