Too sad to sleep.

I shouldn't be posting this right now. I already posted something today. This morning? Tonight. Today. Whatever.

It was already 1:30, and I should have just gone to sleep, but I couldn't. I needed...something. I don't know. I stood in the dark for a while, quiet. I don't like the dark, but I did it anyway. It felt better to be in the dark somehow. So instead of going to sleep, I sat down and watched "Rumor Has It..." I thought it might make me tired enough to collapse, or just take my mind somewhere else. So I wouldn't be too sad to sleep. But it wasn't a good movie at all, and not even very amusing, so I ended up being just as sad and awake as before.

I have three states of mind. My whole life, there have only been these three. The first eighteen years of my existence were only about escape. Distract, get away, daydream, space out, imagine, pretend, detach, escape, escape, escape. After that came anger. Rage, fury, wrath, anger. And more anger. Three years ago, the sadness arrived, and if I must label it, I will call it depression. Crushing, aching, desperate sadness. And now I alternate between these three states. Anger, depression, escape. Again and again.

Mom said that someone at work had a son who took Zoloft and became like a whole different kid. I don't want to be someone else. I want to be Ellen, just not the Ellen that is awake at 4 in the morning and cries and wants to quit her job because she hates it so very, very much but can't quit because there is nothing else out there for her. Nothing. I want to be me. I just want there to be something instead of nothing. I don't bother looking for the Something right now because I don't want to deal with the disappointment when I find that there really is Nothing there.

I remain convinced that my birth was a mistake. There is no other explanation for my being here. No skills, no direction, no goals, no money, no destiny, no courage, no talents, no gifts, no boyfriends, no desire to procreate, no awards, no spark, nothing nothing nothing. Look for another job? I can barely find the motivation to stop pressing the snooze button.

I got down on my knees last night and thanked God that Noggin was not included in our expanded basic cable package. I don't know if he listened. He's probably not too pleased with me anyway.

I hate Emily's kittens. Emily won't be here for Christmas. She will be here for four days in late December, but not Christmas because she has "babies" to take care of. I am so angry with her, it is a challenge just to speak to her over the phone. It's a foolish decision to get two kittens while in grad school anyway, but she chose the damn cats over us. Over me. I hate those stupid cats.

I wish I had never heard Ryan Adams sing "Wonderwall." It makes me too sad to sleep. But that's not fair. It's not Ryan Adams' fault. It's mine.

Don't try to fix me. I can't be fixed. I was born broken.