Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Posts Tagged ‘being an idiot

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.

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Sigh.

Posted on: February 2, 2010

Gaah. That’s what I have to say.

I’m irritable. I’m pissed off. I’m speaking and acting without thinking.

I’m too twitchily awake to actually do anything, but I still thought it was a perfectly good idea to volunteer to (idea, volunteer: rhyme…)

Right. I volunteered to format my group’s presentation for our seminar on Friday. I reckon it’s the least I could do considering what a bad group member I am, always missing stuff etc. and talking too loud (I could see them looking at me strangely, but I can’t make my voice behave).

Last night, I eventually passed out, only to wake up three hours or so later.

I’m very tempted to go to the doctor and say “PLEASE MAKE ME SLEEP”. But then they’d start asking pesky questions about how my mood is, and I’d probably just scream, “IT’S FUCKING FINE. JUST KNOCK ME OUT BEFORE MY HEAD EXPLODES”. At which point they’d probably call the police. And then my head would explode, which would at least prove me right.

I’m aware that I’m kind of all over the place at the minute. I’m trying to calm myself down. Trying to be still and calm, trying to think things through, trying to just laugh at myself when I’m so startled by little noises that I drop things.

It’s just…sleep. I need some sleep.

Edit: I got an email from the mental health advisor, offering an appointment. I burst into tears. I don’t fucking know why. I suppose that means I’m going to have to actually speak about this out loud. Admittedly, probably in the vaguest way possible.

I don’t know how to feel. Part of me is panicking – I don’t want to speak, I don’t want to ask for help, I don’t want anybody to know, I should never have contacted her. Part of me is upset – I feel guilty, I feel like a disappointment, I feel like I’m giving in. And a small part of me is relieved. Just that small, ridiculous, naive part of my mind that is thinking maybe something will change. And of course, that just makes the part of me that’s sad even sadder, and adds a bit of self-hating anger in there, too – I hate my hope, I hate that I can’t cope and am desperate for something else.

New Year

Posted on: January 2, 2010

Sitting outside in the freezing cold because I wanted “to be with the sky”.

Wandering the streets of a strange city, sobbing uncontrollably.

I feel so ashamed, so embarrassed.

And spending so long out in that weather has made me ill.

Hello, 2010. Fucking brilliant.


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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