Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Work has been quite good.

Posted on: September 21, 2010

I mean, it’s just training so far, so it’s not always particularly exciting. But it’s a distraction, and something to do, and the people are nice (although I’m aware I’ve been being slightly paranoid, snapping “are you laughing at me?” more than once).

Today, we did a test. I got 21 out of 22, the best in the group.

I got embarrassed and awkward and started internally beating myself up about the one I got wrong. Couldn’t stop thinking about what a stupid mistake it had been, how careless and pathetic and useless I am.

Ninety-five and a half per cent, and all I can feel is the burning shame of failure.

I know it makes life impossible, nothing ever being enough. I don’t want to stand out. It’s just, I feel like I stand out every time I do something wrong. Like people will always be talking about me as “her who thought that LOL”. Perhaps it’s a type of perfectionism, but I’m not striving to be brilliant or successful or win praise. I strive to blend in, to hide. To not give people a chance to disapprove.

I think that maybe I’m starting to lose control. I can’t afford to, I know that – I need to be stronger, better. But I’m closer to hurting myself than I have been for quite a while.

I fell out with my mum earlier. She said some quite hurtful things (but she’s in a lot of pain lately, so I’m not allowed to get angry. Actually, scratch that. Anger’s never allowed). She was essentially calling me a selfish, two-faced, manipulative bitch, and accusing me of all sorts of things. And I could feel the rage building up inside me, and all I could think about was grabbing the pair of scissors off the table and stabbing myself, hard and deep and over and over again. I could practically see myself doing it.

It’s been a pretty long time since I’ve self-harmed, and I never did it badly or particularly regularly. But it was always a blank, disconnected kind of thing. When I think of hurting myself lately, it’s not unfeeling or detached, and it’s not carefully calculated. It’s impulsive and automatic and destructive.

I’m worried that I won’t be able to stop myself. As it is, I have to screw up my eyes and breathe very deeply and dig little crescent moons into my palms with my nails.

I need to learn more control.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


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.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 98 other followers

Popular posts.


This blog has been visited

  • 81,568 times.
September 2010
« Aug   Oct »
%d bloggers like this: