I don't think i have ever in my life suffered from jet-lag this badly. Of course, i have never had to immediately go back to work after flying halfway round the world. But i am beginning to wonder if it's not jet-lag so much as complete exhaustion. I spent over two weeks stuck 24/7 with other people, other people who i freakin lived, worked and slept with. I escaped for an hour or two here and there for some vanishing moments of private time, but it wasn't enough to truly recharge. The first day i got back i woke up after 10am. The next day after 11am. Then over the weekend i couldn't get up before noon. And i slept through most of the day as well.
Sunday night, i couldn't sleep any more. So i decided to get drunk. Very drunk, because the usual Sunday night blues were exacerbated by the knowledge i was being forced into an interview first thing. At about 3:30am i decided it would be a great idea to go out clubbing. Which i did. And i did not return home until about midnight, with someone in tow, and then we had a mini after party and "almost sex" ("almost" because halfway through i realized i don't particularly enjoy long, drawn-out sex any more, so he was wasting his time) and i didn't get the house to myself again till about 7pm Tuesday. At which point i slept on and off for almost 24 hours till now.
Granted, some of that latter bizarre sleeping pattern was due to alcohol and drugs. But in general since i got back i have been utterly sapped of motivation to do anything that involves getting out of my bed. You know, it's almost as if i'm depressed or something, though i guess deciding to go out clubbing Monday morning when you have been up all night and are supposed to be going to work is more stereotypically manic. Or maybe it's neither, and this is just the things i fucking need to do to feel like i own my life again.
I mentioned to my boss while we were in San Fran that i would need a vacation to recover from this trip. He thought i was joking, seeing as i had another week of road-trip planned after San Fran (a road-trip whose latter part through Death Valley turned out to be fucking breathtakingly awesome, by the way). But he doesn't get it. This very precarious, unmedicated balancing act i have been doing since i moved to Berlin, it is predicated completely on me being free to do whatever i want, whenever i want, minus the 40 hours a week i am contracted to work. When i don't get that, everything starts going to shit. I am totally wiped. Even now, almost a week after getting back, i am feeling emotionally drained. Dancing on Monday helped that a bit, but there's no miracle rave that'll make everything better, it's a process.
I don't even have a support network here, really. I don't mean friends, who would probably just make things worse right now, but a doctor or psych or someone who will write a note to tell my boss that i need a week off to recharge. As it is now i need to go to work and spin a story about being "sick", or try to explain my time off as jet-lag or chronic fatigue or something hand-wave-y. And it's tough to build rapport with a doctor or psych, especially when you have to do it in a second language.
I probably should have gone to a doctor today seeing as this was three days of sick leave. I can't remember if my contract says i need a note for that. But, yeah. There was that whole thing about not being able to get out of bed.
Maybe tomorrow i will be okay again. Or at least okay enough to make it into the office and be productive for a day or two, when i have another weekend ahead of me. If not, i will definitely go to a doctor. I don't really want to get back on meds again, but i either need an explanation for my boss why i'm not in, or i need something that's going to boost me out of this funk and at least get me waking up by 8am again.