I remember when I lost my mind...

Sometimes I wonder who I am. Not the deep, philosophical question we often pose when trying to reevaluate ourselves. I did that recently. I'm over it.

No, I'm talking about how, sometimes, it seems like there's something that's taken over my body. Like there's an inebriated driver at the helm of my brain, and he's steering me off my course.

I think I'm going nuts.

I can't eat. I have zero appetite, and don't have the desire to consume anything. I'm normally so structured in my eating habits that my students joke, "It's almond time, isn't it?" every day around 10:30. But not anymore. After I consumed nothing yesterday (with the exception of two meal replacements shakes that I forced myself to drink), I finally forced down a Healthy Choice meal for lunch. Other than that? Nada. And no hunger pangs in sight.

I can't sleep. Granted, my Ambien is taking longer than I had hoped to be processed through my insurance company and I am simply waiting for it to arrive in the mail like a sweet package from a dear old friend. But nonetheless. Over the last 4 days I have tried every combination you can imagine: booze, booze and sleep aids, sleep aids and allergy pills. And NOTHING works. I have gotten so little sleep since Friday that I feel like I'm in college again: hoping for 6 hours and settling for 4.

I just cleaned my apartment. In my work clothes. Including tights. And dangly earrings. I scrubbed toilets. I did laundry. I vaccuumed the couch (it's a cat hair thing).

It's 9 pm and I'm wide awake, and I'm trying to figure out who this is. Because it isn't me.

This "new Sheri" is quite productive, though. Maybe tomorrow she'll clean my car.