outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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paralyzed

I can't function. I have tried. I am drowning in a sea of my own detrital failures. Grades are due today, I'm on the hiring committee for a new prof, plus the de facto chair of three other committees that must produce reports and curricula nownownow, and by the end of this month I'm supposed to be done with a brand new analysis for my dissertation that I haven't even started. I have two weeks to do all of this. Except the grades; I have less than four hours to finish them. Then three reports to write about them! And I decided to throw a lunch party this weekend, not realizing that, for one, it's the same weekend as graduation, and for another, I would be totally fucking crazy by now.

Oh, and G is not speaking to me, because I had the audacity to ask her to CUT ME SOME FUCKING SLACK right now when I can't leave work at 4 on Friday like we planned. We left before 5, get the fuck over it. And she could not possibly be less supportive unless she actively erased my hard drive. "Leaving [me] alone" is her idea of helping. I think I've bitched about this before. Her idea of supporting me is defending herself. It's horseshit, I hate it.

I am so miserable that I am liable at any time to burst into bitter tears, so long as no one is around. I'm in pain, I can't think straight, I can't get enough sleep, I can't even formulate a plan to get myself out of this. I am lonely, I am sad, I am angry.

Not to mention the fact that I apparently can't even do my paying job correctly anymore. My students absolutely bombed their finals, and one even wrote in his mini-essay that he'll never take another math class because it sucked so hard (I paraphrase). Why should I show my face at work? I thought I was doing so well, keeping the dissertation and the job separate, thinking that if I didn't tell the students what was going on with me this semester, I would be able to pull it off without them knowing anything was amiss. I failed miserably at that, and speaking of miserable, I made us all miserable in the process. I have lost touch with reality, because I thought it was all going well and I was so wrong.

I want to get out of here, I want a new life, I want a new body. I don't want to start over; I want to start somewhere else and do something completely different. Teaching math, writing a failed dissertation - I have never been so demoralized in my whole life.

Get me the fuck out of here, I'm about to lose it.

1:13 p.m. - 2013-05-13

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