Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Archive for August 2011

Grrrr

Posted on: August 29, 2011

Same old shit. Nothing changes.

I’m doing crap at work because I can’t do anything, but I have to keep going, have to keep doing my best because everyone is ill at the moment, and I’m fine, I just have to find a way to keep moving.

I got a letter from the blood donor people, saying I should see my doctor about the anaemia. I’m going to try to go some time this week, but I can’t see it being much more than, “Hi, I’ve got no blood”, and “Hmm, it seems you have no blood”. People at work have started commenting, though, about how I’m even paler than usual and moving and talking and thinking slowly.

My parents keep telling me I need to ring my driving instructor, arrange another lesson, but I desperately don’t want to. I only started learning in the first place to stop them from telling me to start learning, but the truth is I’m so shit at it, and find it so stressful, and I’m only going to get worse and more stressed out when I can’t think. But I’m too scared to call him and say I don’t want to learn anymore, and too scared to let my parents down, so I just keep pretending I’ve forgotten. I can’t keep that up forever, of course, but I’m struggling to think of an alternative.

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I don’t have any energy. I’m spending a lot of time just sort of…standing, halfway to my destination, staring blankly at walls and waiting for my body to start working again.

I feel constantly on the verge of tears, and I’m snapping at everybody, because all they do is ask stupid questions and make so much noise and it’s not that the noise hurts as such, but it irritates me, and makes me feel like my skin is crawling.

According to the nurse when I tried to give blood recently, I’m slightly anaemic, which I suppose might at least partially account for the general fatigue and feeling a bit like I might pass out, which certainly isn’t helping matters.

I feel like shit, to be honest with you. I’m not really eating or drinking much, and my mum has taken to dragging me downstairs, putting things in front of me, and insisting I have them, even if I start crying. It’s not a conscious effort, it’s just that I feel like my body’s shutting down. I’m not hungry, I’m not thirsty, and I feel like I don’t even have the energy it’d take to eat a proper meal (I know food might help, but it’s like…investment. It doesn’t matter how big the return is if you don’t have the capital to invest to start with).

I want to go to sleep. Ideally for about a year, preferably forever. Everybody thinks I’m being stupid and melodramatic, but I can’t think, I can hardly move, and the shit thing is I can still hardly even sleep, just in fits, spending hour after hour lying on my bed with tears on my face, wishing I was dead because I feel like I’m carrying a ten-ton weight on my back every time I move.

What should I do? I feel like going into hibernation.

Of course. All talk and no action, that’s me.

I’m not sure what happened yesterday. I thought I was going mad. I completely lost control…just couldn’t stop crying, for hour after hour after hour. It was really frightening.

I don’t like that that’s me. Melodramatic and over-reacting. I hate it. I want to be calm and rational and sensible, and I hate that I was so very far from that.

Today, I am…better. My head and stomach ache from crying, and the skin around my eyes is still sore. My limbs feel heavy, like all the blood has settled there and gone to sleep. I feel…exhausted, and ashamed. I feel very still inside, and all movement is a slow, aching burden.

But I am alive. I chose to lie in my bed, fantasising about dying, rather than actually doing it, and I regret that quite a lot today. I’d like to die. I’d like to not have to think anymore.

I’m scared, to be honest with you. The only thing I have is self-restraint, and yesterday, I lost it.

Today, my parents are being nice to me. Determinedly not mentioning yesterday, but treating me a little bit like an invalid. Nobody ever acknowledges these things after they happen.

I wish I knew what to do. I’m too tired to even think, really, today, and when I try, I feel tears in my eyes, and I can’t allow that.

Fuck. I’ve made such a fool of myself.

Posted on: August 20, 2011

I don’t know what to do.

It’s as if, just for a moment, I forgot that I’m not allowed to have feelings, and through the tiny crack that appeared passed years of unhappiness in a single afternoon.

I don’t even know why. I can’t work it out.

It sounds melodramatic and adolescent, but my parents don’t understand. They keep calling me a silly bitch, and telling me not to be stupid, and having a go at me because I am upsetting them.

They said I’m going mental, and that they were going to call the doctor, because I’ve done nothing all day – haven’t eaten, haven’t drank, have just covered my face and cried – but that’s just how they threaten me. It’s how they’ve always threatened me.

My head and throat hurt so badly, probably because I made a noose and pulled it so tight I saw stars. But I need something to hang from, and I don’t know what to use.

They said they’re sick of me. They said I’ll have to move out, find somewhere else to be a grumpy, useless cow.

I’m alone in the house, now, and if I can raise the energy to do it, and work out a way, I’ll kill myself. I don’t know what else to do.

I fell out with my parents. Just a minor argument. Nothing big, and to be honest, mostly my fault.

And now I can’t stop crying. I don’t even know why.

I just feel like such a fucking disappointment. I’m always letting them down and making them ashamed of me and I wish I could stop but I can’t because I’m such a fucking useless, awful person.

And I know there is enough medication in this house to kill me, but maybe that would be rash and reckless and not properly thought-out, so I am sitting on my bed until I can stop fucking crying and then maybe I’ll make a decision.

I’m so sorry. I wish I’d done something with my life. I wish they could be proud of me. I want to go away but I don’t know how, I don’t know how to go about finding some quiet little corner to die in. I don’t want to upset anybody but I’m such a fucking failure. I’ve got the money, probably, but I don’t know how to disappear without offending everyone.

Lately, for the first time in so fucking long, I feel better than okay. I feel magic.

I know that a person with a bit more sense than me would be saying, now, wait a minute, Laura. Take a deep breath and don’t get ahead of yourself. Think about it. Maybe you’ve been here before. But, honestly, fuck that. It’s not that I want to be irresponsible or stupid, it’s just that I hate doubting my happiness. I want it always to be that I feel good because life is good, and even if that’s wrong sometimes, I don’t want to miss a single second of genuine goodness in worry that it’s not real.

I’ve had my birthday. I didn’t get much, but I felt special, anyway. And I’ve had my pay-rise. And I won a bottle of wine. And my friend who was living miles and miles away has moved back to our hometown. And I can just feel happiness bubbling up inside me like a fountain. I’ve been fantasising about being successful, and staying up most of the night, and being extroverted, and speaking to people whether I know them or not.

I hope, so very much, that this is it now. That I’m back to the person I used to be. That I can plan things, and not be afraid.

And you know what? If I can’t stop tapping things and jumping at small noises and pulling things apart and making dreadful puns, I don’t care. It’s a small price to pay.

Today…

Posted on: August 9, 2011

I am twenty-three years old.

I have a degree.

I’ve just had another pay rise at work.

I have people I get on with, who I think quite like me.

I’m doing alright.


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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