Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Better off dead

Posted on: April 29, 2011

I haven’t written here much lately. I think it’s because every time I stop to think, I fall apart. So I’ve closed off from everything, enclosed myself in a blissful blank bubble, in which I need not think or feel or live. Storing myself in suspended animation until I can find a way to live without wanting to rip myself to pieces.

I’m scared, and confused. I have so very few memories of my whole life, and I strain after them, trying to find something that feels real, but that just makes it harder. I feel so detached from everything, almost like a ghost, never quite connecting with anything real.

It’s better to be dead than to live such a pointless life. Better to be dead than constantly fucking everything up. Better to be dead than face turning into my mother, who still, every day, brings fear and panic and shame into my life.

I can’t move out. Even if I could afford it, on the few brief occasions I’ve tentatively mentioned it, my parents have got offended and upset. The only way I’m ever going to leave this house is if I cut off all ties with them completely, and I’m not brave enough, and I don’t have anyone else.

Better dead than trapped. Better dead than hopeless. Better dead than the good-for-nothing wreck I’ve let myself become.

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Hello

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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