Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Again and again and again

Posted on: February 7, 2011

What if a demon were to creep after you one night, in your loneliest loneliness, and say, ‘This life which you live must be lived by you once again and innumerable times more; and every pain and joy and thought and sigh must come again to you, all in the same sequence. The eternal hourglass will again and again be turned and you with it, dust of the dust!’ Would you throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse that demon? Or would you answer, ‘Never have I heard anything more divine’?

                                                                                                                                                            – Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science

Do you ever feel you’re just repeating yourself? That everything that happens has happened before, and will always happen the same way?

I am struggling to find what I have learned, or how I have developed, or how I can possibly stop the eternal repetition. There’s a cycle that I need to get out of, but I don’t know how – or if what exists outside of it is any better.

My mum has been saying terrible things, again. It happens so often you could probably set your clock by it, like her crying fits or her admissions to hospital, but every time, I feel it like a punch in the stomach.

It’s not even aimed at me, not really (and I feel guilty for that. If she must hate and insult and accuse, it should at least be equal. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve wished to be the target, to give them a break). It’s the usual stuff, recycled and brought out with a vengeance. My dad is selfish and evil for having a job, that kind of thing.

And she says my brother hits her. And fuck, it makes me feel sick. One of the worst things is that I could imagine it – I want to punch her in the face sometimes, myself (probably something to do with the way I always want to help other people, perhaps as some sort of compensation for the fact I’ve never really had any sort of actual connection with another human being), but I’ve never seen him hit her, and there are no marks, and it’s not his style. He knows exactly what to say to make you want to hit him, but he’s not the fighting type.

I hate that she says it, though. It’s not the first time, but every time it happens, it makes me feel scared and disoriented like very little else will. Because if she’s lying, what does it say about her? It pushes her firmly over the line between being too self-absorbed to notice she’s hurting people and hurting them deliberately. I’ve spent my whole life making excuses for her – she’s ill, she doesn’t know what she’s doing – because despite everything, she is my mother. And there are better mothers out there, but there are worse ones too, and I owe her…something.

I’m worried that this is my life, now. Sitting in this house, trying as ever to be the glue that holds the family together, and failing every fucking day. I’ve been trying to imagine a future away from here, but it’s hard: one mention of “when I move out” leads to “you’re not going anywhere, are you?” and “oh, Laura, don’t leave”.

Recently, someone at work pointed out something to me that I was aware of, but had chosen to ignore: I can never choose anything. Whenever anyone asks me what I want, whatever the context, I feel physically incapable of expressing a preference for one thing over another.  It’s stupid, isn’t it? It’s a pretty basic human thing, making simple choices, but I’m so in the habit of hedging my bets, of trying to find a compromise, that people are noticing, and it’s just another thing that makes me stand out as a bit weird.


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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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