Loopy, Lonely and Lost


Posted on: July 25, 2009

I can’t do this anymore.

I am angry and frightened and panicking and I can’t do it. That’s it. I give up.

I’ve fallen out with everyone. I can’t do anything right.


My brother hates me.

My parents have the idea that my brother has a bad “attitude”, and that the best way to cure him of that is to nag him, pick at him, never forgive him for anything, shout at him, blame him for everything, and, every time he protests or disagrees with them, to stop him from using the computer. He’s 24 years old and is currently on a 2-week computer ban because he dared to have an opinion. I’ve spoken to my parents about it hundreds of times, pointing out that it’s a ridiculous punishment and so open to abuse because they class ‘bad attitude’ as whatever he’s doing when they feel like punishing him. But all that happened was they got angry with me as well.

I was worried about him. He was very quiet and not talking much, and I was wondering if I should have a word, check if he was okay. I asked my dad how my brother was, and he told me that my brother had been ranting about me. Laura shouldn’t have the computer either, he said. Laura gets away with everything. She argues. She swears. She doesn’t have a job or do anything with her life. She doesn’t have to pay any board. She gets given money and driven to places.

I know. I know, I know. Does he really think I don’t know all those things? Does he really think that he knows the horrible things about me more than I do? I’m just so angry with him. I’m the only person in this house who ever sticks up for him. I’m the only person who ever talks to him without aggression or disdain. And it means nothing. Of course it does. Only I – the stupid, naive person that I am – could ever think that caring about someone and trying to help them would ever bring anything but hatred my way.

At first I thought my dad was just trying to make a rift between us. Divide and conquer. But my brother is being so cold with me, snapping and sneering and ignoring. I don’t know how to tell him: if it’s my fault, please believe me, I’m sorry and I’m paying for it.


My parents hate me.

My brother’s rants, of course, haven’t gone un-noticed. My parents have heard, and they agree. I really am a waste of space. So:

  • I’m not allowed to swear.
  • I’m not allowed to shout.
  • I’m not allowed to disagree with them.
  • I’m not allowed to voice an opinion that differs to theirs.
  • I’m not allowed to be myself or say anything that I find interesting or funny, because myself and everything that I find interesting or funny is stupid, boring and unimportant.

And every time I do any of those things, they shout and swear and scream and tell me I’m stupid and rude and immature and threaten to stop me from going on the computer, too.

The latest is that I have to tidy my room, or in my parents’ words, “sort it out”. Despite the fact that it is my room, and I am the only person who spends time in it, they’ve decided it needs to be properly ‘sorted’. Despite the fact that I have no storage space and I have never yet walked into anything or fallen over anything in my room, the fact that some of my boxes from uni are on the floor seems to seriously offend them, and I have to “tidy them away”. And despite the fact that my clothes really are my clothes, there are far too many of them and I have to go through them all and throw some out so that there’ll be room for the new clothes that I hypothetically might some day buy.

And if I ask why they want me to do this? And if I ask how they want me to do this? I get told, “We’ll go through it and sort it out together”. And if I tell them that I don’t want them going through my room, I get asked what I have to hide. And when I tell them nothing, just that my room is my own personal space and when people rifle through it it feels like a violation, I get told to stop being such a stupid cow. And if I question it any more, they refuse to answer my questions, shout at me, and tell me that if I say any more they’ll take the computer off me.


I can’t do it. I can’t live my life constantly wondering if anything I do is going to break their arbitrary rules. I can’t keep trying to be a good person when everything I say or do is thrown back in my face. I can’t live, knowing that I will never be good enough. I can’t get through the day without finding out that something that was fine yesterday has overnight become a mortal sin.

Is there really so much wrong with me that I have to be subdued, controlled and punished? What have I done wrong? Why am I such a disappointment? Why is the person I am never enough?

I’m trying to be calm, think clearly. It’s difficult. The last few days I’ve been feeling quite light-headed, and I keep thinking they’re drugging me, putting stuff in my food to restrain me, to turn me into the daughter they wish I was. I know I’m being stupid, and I try to shut my brain up.

I can’t live. That much is clear.

My family is relatively ordinary. I mean, fucked up, but everyone’s fucked up. It’s not their fault that I feel everything like a stab to the heart. It’s not their fault I grew up to be such a disappointment, so far from their ideal. It’s my fault, of course. I do everything wrong, I make everything worse, I ruin everything. It’s my fault I’m opinionated and impatient and tactless, and it’s my fault that I’m too thin-skinned to deal with the fall-out of being those things.

Next time I’m alone in the house for a reasonable amount of time, I’ll do it. There’s a cupboard downstairs and it’s full of pills, some of them pretty strong, and I’ll take as many as I possibly can. Then I’ll lie down and die and by the time they’re home it’ll be too late to do anything about it.

I can’t live. You can look at the surface of it and say that my home life is difficult, but even when I’m not at home I feel like shit. Even when I’m away at uni for weeks or months, I still don’t cope, I still want to die. So it’s not this, it’s not them – it’s me. Even if it was my family who made me feel like this, I couldn’t escape: I have no job, no money, nowhere to go. But it’s not them. Maybe sometimes the problem focuses on them, but the problem is always me.

I can’t do this any more. Simple as that. There is no future, there is no hope. There is no-one who’d miss me if I died, no-one who, if they looked at themselves honestly, would be able to say that their life was better for my existence.

I think I’ve tried to live for long enough. I can only apologise for who I am so many times. I can only spend so many nights crying into my pillow because I’ve ruined and wasted yet another day.

It’s got to end. Got to. It’s not “I wish…” or “I want…” anymore. It’s simple, basic need. There is no alternative.


5 Responses to "End."

Your family is not ordinary. Fucked up yes, but not ordinary. Which sane family sets rules like that for their 24 and 21 year old offspring? Ask your friends if they have to live with that.

And it’s not your fault.

Echoing Niro. You’re 21 and 24, but your parents seem to think you’re 9 and 12. And your brother’s (re)acting like he’s 12 by blaming you. This isn’t typical behaviour by any means.

Pills won’t solve anything, they won’t even end it. They’ll just fuck up your internal organs and fuck up your head and make things worse.

I know things still feel bad away from home, but don’t discount the effect this atmosphere has on you. Is there a friend from uni maybe you could stay with for a few days? Everyone needs their own headspace. It won’t change your life, no, but if you can ride out this feeling it might save it.

Look after yourself, Laura.


Ive been reading your blog for a while, this is the first time I’m commenting. I really hope you don’t hurt yourelf. Your blog and your words have provided so much comfort for me. You’re able to express what I can’t write down in my own diary: the hoplessness, the despair, the fustration, the anger and the pain of life. Please find a way to hold on.

I really hope you don’t do it Laura 😦 You’re parents are being ridiculous and overbearing. My mum was like that to a certain extent with my sister which is why she moved out. She was nowhere near that bad, but I’ve seen how badly it can affect you if your parents keep nagging and wearing away your self esteem and everything. I hope you can find a way to carry on because you don’t deserve such horrible treatment. I know you are minimising your pain, I do it too, but you have the right to be treated like an adult. It’s not your fault 😦

I hope you are okay Laura, I echo what Nick say you have the right to be treated like an adult…

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My name is Laura. I was once told that I have cyclothymia. This blog is mostly where I write about living as a person with extremes and instability of mood, and the history of a life that led to the development of those symptoms.

I complain a lot, I'm very repetitive, unreliable, and I tend to contradict myself.

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