I’m fucking things up, again
Posted by: Laura on: November 20, 2009
I haven’t done anything this week.
I can’t afford to be lazy, I can’t afford to miss things for no reason.
I have two presentations to do in the next couple of weeks and for one of them I don’t even have a partner, of course I don’t, because we had to sort it out ourselves and I don’t have any friends.
I’m going home again this weekend. I promised my friend I’d go to his birthday party on Monday, even though obviously he only asked me out of politeness. It’d be better if I didn’t go at all, but I’ve promised now.
Being at home drains me of what little strength I have.
I’m messing things up. Of course I am.
I need to be stronger than this, I need to make things right. I need to be a better person.
I can’t fucking do this anymore.
Skiving
Posted by: Laura on: November 19, 2009
I haven’t been to anything today.
I’m such a useless, lazy idiot.
I don’t feel like I can move.
It’s not like I’m overly upset, just still and silent and so very tired.
If death was something that could be willed, I’d've died years ago.
I wish that was the case.
I cannot think, I cannot move, I cannot speak.
Last night I was strangely animated and argumentative, but it went after a few hours and now I am stuck here.
I’m ruining everything.
I can’t live but I have no idea how I’m going to raise the energy and nerve to kill myself.
A bit of a rough patch.
Posted by: Laura on: November 17, 2009
I’m still at home, I’m staying until tomorrow.
Life at home is tremendously difficult at the moment. Things are going on, about which I’m wary of going into detail here, where anyone can see it. Basically there is a situation, which is potentially real-world serious (i.e. not just serious in the context of my house, where horrific arguments have stemmed from a single unwashed cup). Everybody is worried, and everybody seems to be disagreeing with each other. I’ve been trying, as ever, to provide some sort of middle ground, some sort of compromise, but, as ever, people don’t really listen. Read the rest of this entry »
A change of scenery.
Posted by: Laura on: November 14, 2009
I’ve come home for the weekend, mainly in the desperate, misguided hope that being somewhere else equates to being someone else, or at least feeling something else.
It never works like that, though, does it? It seems ridiculously trite to say that wherever you go, you can’t escape yourself, but still, it’s true. And perhaps it’s something I forget, or at least ignore, fleeing from one place to another in the hope that I can tie my thoughts and feelings to one place and then just leave them behind.
I didn’t tell anyone at uni that I was coming home for the weekend. Of course, I didn’t need to. Who would notice? Who would care? Perhaps there’s a freedom in being able to come and go as I please without raising a ripple of interest, but mostly it feels like loneliness, inadequacy, invisibility.
I’ve been back at uni for nearly 2 months. Everybody I’ve ever known, had they been in my position, would have made friends by now. They would have met people, they’d have made a connection, they’d be enjoying themselves. Not drifting, aimless, through a sea of forgetting faces.
I don’t believe I’ll ever make a friend again. I don’t believe that the people I’ve been calling my friends feel anything for me other than a vague sense of companionship that is already fading, and will soon be completely extinguished. I don’t believe that there is anyone in the world who does or would willingly spend time in my company, or who would miss me if I disappeared from their life entirely.
I know that I am dispensable. I know that I am nothing, no-one. But knowing it doesn’t make it changeable.
I don’t have a future. For starters, what is a person without other people? But it’s not just that – even if I pass my degree (and what’s the likelihood of that? I’ve been going to things, but of course that’s not enough), there are no jobs. Certainly none for someone like me, with no skills, no experience, no direction. And there’ll be thousands of pounds of debt from student loans and no way to pay it back, because really, would you employ me? And I hate always having to depend on my parents for money, especially now that my mum has left her job due to illness. I won’t ever be able to pay them back for all they’ve given me, and I won’t ever stop needing their help. I’m such a fucking parasite. Every day I live is just one more piece of proof that I am useless, that I am a drain on other people, and I hate it so much.
I don’t want to let people down, but I will. I’ve been doing it all my life.
I am a waste of space, time, money. There is no hope. And there’s no way out, either. No solution, no steps to take to become a different, better person.
I’m so full of guilt, shame, fear, sadness.
And no matter where I go, or how many times I go there, those feelings can’t be escaped.
Freefall
Posted by: Laura on: November 9, 2009
I am in a dangerous mood, and I know it.
I’m falling, fast, and there’s no way to stop it.
I cannot feel anything good.
I am either grimly blank or despairing. I think of nothing but dying.
I’m losing touch of everything. Excuses, reasons…they mean nothing. I’m shut off from everything apart from this feeling that this needs to end, that I need to end.
I need to find a way.
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t grasp a reason, I can’t seize upon why, but it’s too much, it’s all too much and I can’t do it.
I’m frightened of living. It’s all too much and I know that’s stupid, I know I have it easy but it’s still too much.
I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t understand what’s going on.
I’m scared, mostly, and I can’t get out of my head the idea that if I was dead there would be no problems.
I can’t imagine living. I can’t imagine having a future. It just doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t work in my head.
For so long now, it’s been “when I kill myself”, not “if…”. It’s been a given for years. It’s hardly even a decision anymore.
And I think I have the energy to do it, now. Usually when I feel like dying I can hardly move, but I’m jumpy, jittery, agitated. Perhaps it’s just the illusion of energy, or perhaps it’s a burst of just enough to do what needs to be done.
It’s too much.
I can’t live. This is too big for me. I can’t fucking do it.
I don’t want to exist. All I want is for this to end.
Good?
Posted by: Laura on: November 7, 2009
It’s been a ‘good week’.
If you look at this from the outside, it has. Yes, I spent most of Wednesday in bed, but apart from that…I got everything done. I went to everything. I volunteered answers and ideas in seminars. I even managed to give a presentation. I even managed to do – badly – the work to make up for the presentation I missed the other week.
I did everything.
And most days I’ve eaten proper meals.
And I’ve been in touch with my family and my friends.
And I’ve been making plans for the next couple of weeks.
This should mean that I am okay. I should be feeling good.
But I just keep crying. I just keep thinking of all the things that are still left to do. I’m so tired, but I’m not sleeping, still. I feel nervous when I’m around people, and lonely when I’m not. I’m moving too slowly. I’m forgetting the simplest of things. And nearly all the time I have to myself, I’m curled up on my bed with the lights off, crying or trying not to cry or staring at the walls or imagining killing myself.
But I’ve been getting stuff done. So I can’t complain, really.
I worry, a little, that I’m just getting better at pretending. That I’ll be going to things and volunteering answers right up until the day I kill myself.
Maybe that’s better. Stops people worrying, I suppose.
I’m not suicidal. I mean, I keep thinking about it, but I’m not making any plans. It’s an obsession but not a reality. Just something that my mind keeps returning to.
Every measurable sign says that I’m fine. I’m doing well.
And if I don’t feel it then that’s just me being stupid.
Quiet
Posted by: Laura on: November 5, 2009
I’m finding words difficult. And everything else, really.
On the bright side, I’m calmer. I’m no longer cluttered with too many thoughts and too much movement.
But I feel like I’m made out of lead.
Stupid, isn’t it? I spend all my time complaining about one thing or another, when I should just accept that there is no middle ground.
I’m so slow. I couldn’t think properly before because all the thoughts were jostling for position…now I can’t think properly because there just aren’t enough thoughts. I think, then I pause, stuck, no words at all in my head, and I just have to wait for something else to come along.
I have to do a presentation tomorrow. I have to do so many things.
I can’t think, I can’t move.
I’m trying to be okay. I’ve been going to things. I went to a meeting with my presentation group earlier, and I managed. I felt ridiculously fake, my face stretched into a grimace, my voice too quiet, then too loud – everything was just off, but of course, people don’t notice. That’s not how it works.
I am trying. And I have to be okay. I have to be able to do things.
But I feel so slow and heavy and tired. My insomnia is still stupidly bad. It’s just me and my thoughts at night, and at the moment I don’t even have the energy to try to distract myself – and if I did I don’t think it’d work. You have to be interested in things in order to be distracted.
The other day I was talking to a girl who was really passionate about her future. She was talking about how she was nervous that it wouldn’t work out and excited that it would, and about how this is the start of her life, really – about how she could do anything.
And I didn’t understand. I would have done…years ago, I’d have understood. I’d have got it, I’d have felt the same.
I miss it.
I miss feeling like there was some future for me. I miss feeling like no problem was insurmountable. I miss that unshakeable feeling of invincibility.
I know there’s no way back. I’m not stupid.
I just don’t know how to go about moving forward, carrying on, with what I’ve got left. What I am now.
I’m just tired, I suppose, and talking crap.
Ugh.
Posted by: Laura on: November 3, 2009
Yesterday I was so incredibly on the move and twitchy and fidgety and jittery, and then I got back to my room and, for no reason I could work out, burst into tears. Just horrible, sniffling, unable to breathe properly. Just curled up in a corner muttering, “I can’t do it, I give up, it’s too much,” to myself. For…well, a couple of hours, which is embarrassing. I’d been fine all day…well, perhaps not fine but at least not unhappy.
Then I got up early this morning and went to do my volunteering and I think it went alright but I kept feeling like everyone hated me because who am I to tell them what to do?
And now, I am so. Fucking. Tired. I have so much work to do but I’m too tired, I just want to sleep but I can’t.
I’m losing it
Posted by: Laura on: November 2, 2009
Things are getting very strange, very quickly.
My thoughts and my life are like a rope, slipping through my fingers and I can’t grip it, I can’t stop it slipping away, I can’t hold it still.
Tightrope walker
Posted by: Laura on: October 30, 2009
I am holding things together. Just about.
I feel, very much, like I’m one of those people who walks on tightropes for a living. Or for fun (weirdos). You know, all I’m doing is walking in a straight line, it should be easy, but one misstep and everything is irretrievably lost. And every time I actually think about what I’m doing, I panic and start screaming (only in my head, you’ll be pleased to know), “DEATH! DEATH! DEATH AND DESTRUCTION!” Read the rest of this entry »
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