Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Posts Tagged ‘happiness

Here it goes, I lose control.

I felt pretty good for a couple of days, and I didn’t question it, didn’t worry, couldn’t see anything unusual in it. Didn’t even think about it, really. Just enjoyed the breath of fresh air, the lifting of a weight.

Then all of a sudden things are too bright and loud and upbeat. I say stuff I wouldn’t normally, see eyebrows raising as I seem arrogant and presumptuous and overly-friendly and just generally weird. I go to work and try harder than everyone, get everything just so, becoming obsessive about it, never stopping.

Then I come home and talk, talk, talk and laugh until my throat hurts. Then my thoughts are racing, really racing, to the point where they get so fast they just become white noise, I can’t make anything out, like when things travel quickly in cartoons and all you see is a blur. Sweeping lines of motion but no discernible outline.

I can’t think anymore, my mind moving so fast that I can’t get purchase on any particular thought, they’re all whizzing past just beyond my reach, and there is simultaneously so much and nothing at all going on in my mind and I start to get afraid.

It’s 2am. I can’t sleep. I’m actually seriously considering hurting myself, just to shut my brain up. I know it’s stupid and self-destructive but it’s fucking tempting, the idea of harming myself just enough to induce that blank state in which I can collapse in to bed, mind silent, actually no thoughts at all, and sleep until morning.

What am I supposed to do? I can’t stop moving or thinking, everything going round in circles. Earlier at work my friends and I were looking at a puzzle and I couldn’t see the answer but now it’s come to me and it’s yelling in my ear, I’m fidgety and I’m mouthing it to myself and it won’t get out of my head, just a stupid meaningless phrase that repeats over and over again and keeps me awake.

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.

I feel alive.

I feel a hint of strength. I feel blood pumping through my heart in a way that feels almost like nervousness, my stomach churning over too, but it’s not fear, not quite, it’s an energy whose name I no longer quite remember.

I feel…dynamic, sort of. Almost.

I feel like there is something in me other than lethargy and sheepishness and dread.

I feel so full of something that is hard to describe. It is my heart swelling and my skin tingling and a laugh bubbling up inside of me. It’s shaking my leg and biting my lip to stop from making all the jokes that whoosh through my  brain.

I feel free, I think. I think I feel hope.

Is this happiness? Was that all it took? Am I so predictable that all it took was an envelope through the door and the chains around my limbs have dissolved.

Edit: I stayed awake until 6:30am and woke up, fully refreshed, at 10am. I haven’t had this much energy in months.


– said a colleague of mine to me earlier, with a raised eyebrow, a grin, and a slightly infuriated tone.

Stop. Wait. Breathe. Assess where I am.

I’m standing up, in the presence of a considerable number of people, only some of whom I know. I’m acting out a hypothetical situation, with the aid of a pair of plastic spoons with faces drawn on them. The entire routine is complete with silly voices that I keep getting mixed up (“…and then – oh no, I’m talking in your voice!” – “That’s still my voice.” – “Ahem. Is that better?” – “That’s not the voice you had two minutes ago!”), and I’m vaguely thinking of – and discussing, via the monologues of a narrator – putting my one-woman (and two-spoon) show on the stage.

People are laughing at me. They’ve been taking the piss all day, a result of our recent Christmas party, in which I never stopped dancing and talking to strangers and posing and saying ever so slightly strange things (not that I’ll admit to the strangeness. Deny, deny, deny, that’s how I do things).

I know I’ve been a bit weird lately. I only slept three hours at most last night, but I haven’t felt any the worse off for it, and I’m still wide awake. I know I’ve been…a little controlling, insisting on helping people and answering their questions almost to the point of taking over completely. I might have been getting people’s backs up at work, setting myself on to solving problems and giving advice when I’ve only been there a couple of months, and I have no authority. I’ve been taking over, doing things for people, because they’re doing them so slowly. People have been commenting on my quick wit, my one-liners, my sharp tongue, and I haven’t really noticed, haven’t felt anything other than exuberant and a little bit twitchy and maybe, occasionally, a little irritable.

I’ve been feeling really good, but little splinters of doubt are appearing. Am I allowed to feel this good? Should I be trying to rein myself in, check what I’m saying, calm down, put the brakes on?

I miss when feeling good was just that. I was starting to get it again, I think. Just settling down to working and talking and making new friends. I was enjoying it (to tell the truth, I still am).

But it seems that no matter where I am, or who I’m with, it comes down to the same thing: complicated eyebrow movements and tentative comments about calming down, puzzled laughter and always being introduced to new people as “the mental one”.

I mean, it’s fine. I can still feel the bubbling giddiness rising inside me. I’m still talking too much, still doing whatever it pops into my head to do. It’s just that now, I am aware.

In a different time and place, alarm bells would be ringing. Somebody would be expressing concern. Someone would be saying, watch out. It’s not normal.

I want it to be normal. I want this to be the way life is. I’ve been feeling good about myself, good about the world. I’ve been feeling invincible. People have been finding me fun and funny, they’ve been making me feel like I’m a good person, but very recently they’ve been seeming wary, stepping back a little. Telling me I’m exhausting, asking if I ever shut up, getting annoyed by my constant stream of activity and conversation. And I want to scream at them, stop ruining this, because if people act like this is normal then it is, it can be, and I don’t have to think about it, and there’ll be no come-down, and maybe I’ll be like this forever, maybe this is the person I’m supposed to be.

I feel alive. It’s like…drugs, I suppose. I’d do anything to keep this feeling.

I haven’t written here for nearly a week, so I thought it was probably a good idea, considering I usually post a bit more often than that, to pop in and say hello.

I’m doing pretty well. Weirdly, I keep feeling tears falling out of my eyes, even when I don’t actually feel very sad. But that’s nothing, really. Nothing worth complaining about, anyway.

I’m finding it hard to get out of bed, but I’m managing it. And once I’m up, I gather quite a lot of momentum, which actually makes it difficult to get back in to bed (which of course leads to more morning problems. I’m trying to be sensible, but mostly that just means I’m lying around for hours, dancing my feet around and thinking, thinking, thinking). Thinking’s going alright, too. Sometimes my brain is getting stuck on things, but they’re not unpleasant things, so it could definitely be worse (for a while I had “let’s all do the conga, la la la la la ooh!” going round and round in my head, ever so slightly too fast, like a broken record).

I’ve been contacting friends, and buying books (and reading bits of them, but unfortunately getting distracted) and generally just having quite a nice time.

I even managed to do some work! Not enough, of course, but enough to give me the vague idea that maybe I can get something done.

I’m pretty cheerful. Once I’ve dragged myself out of bed, and wiped away the tears that leak down my face for no apparent reason, everything’s actually pretty good. More or less as good as it gets, I think.

Everything is mostly awesome.

I’m a little bit irritable, a little bit impatient. I’m speaking too loudly and too quickly. I’m saying what I think, I’m saying things that make me laugh regardless of how they affect other people. I’m being selfish, I know it. At least I know it. Read the rest of this entry »

Everything is so incredibly awesome.

It needs to be written, I need a record, I need to be able to remember this, although of course I never do, even when it is written, but I have to try.

I got the result for the presentation I did a couple of weeks ago – the one that I almost completely fucked up by leaving everything to the very last minute, because I’m a knob – and I got 63%. Which will do very nicely, thank you very much. Strangely, I’ve been doing quite well this term. Which is baffling, as I’m still as inconsistent as ever. And I did miss a test last week, which might be a bit of a problem.

But it doesn’t matter. Because right now, everything is amazing.

Everybody’s gone home for Christmas, so I’ve mostly been entertaining myself. I’ve been working the past  couple of days, without which I think I’d probably very quickly go insane because I’d have no-one to talk to.

And I’ve been talking to friends from home. I say ‘talking’, it’s pretty much just been on the internet. And I’ve been laughing so hard. Today, someone I know made a small typing error in his Facebook status. OH, you think. HOW TERRIBLY EXCITING. Weird thing is, it kind of was. My friend and I managed to comment on it 29 times between us, each comment being a different pun on the error he’d made. He obviously thinks we’re about a million different kinds of insane, but I don’t particularly care, because I spent so much of this afternoon snorting with laughter.

Yes, snorting.

I just feel like everything’s going so well, and I really hope it lasts. I suppose there’s a small part of me that knows it won’t, but mostly I’m putting my fingers in my ears and saying “la la la la laaaa I’m not listening!” because I really shouldn’t have to spend the times when I’m happy thinking about how happiness doesn’t last. So I’m cheerfully turning a blind eye.

 Everything just feels so easy. I mean, apart from actually keeping still or getting to sleep or keeping the insane laughter to a minimum. But it’s like…it’s like my brain works like a machine, like it’s all cogs and levers and whatever else machines are made of. And so much of the time they’re just scraping together, going creak creeak crreeeeaaakkk, and everything’s a struggle because there’s so much resistance. And then all of a sudden it gets into the right gear or someone puts some oil on it or something, and then like magic there’s no friction, no resistance, and everything’s working smoothly, effectively, quickly, faster and faster and faster and maybe sometimes it feels slightly out of control but it’s okay because it doesn’t fall apart, it doesn’t start emitting smoke and beeping noises, it just keeps going, better and better and better and I can’t even remember what the creaking was like, I know rationally that it happened but all I can really concentrate on now is the way that everything is so easy.

All I can really concentrate on now is this feeling I have that everything’s going to be okay, more than okay, better than okay. Everything’s brilliant and it’s going to keep being brilliant and maybe it will even get better. And I know that there’ll probably be a price to pay for feeling so good, there always is, but all I can think of is this utter glee that rises up inside me and has me smirking to myself and bursting into laughter and spinning around and wanting to tell everyone how wonderful everything is. And I feel like my blood’s been replaced with electricity, like there’s sparks running through my vains, like everything I do is pure energy, like I have such power.

Like I can do anything. Like everything is perfect. Like I have so much to do, so much to say. Like I’m never going to feel anything other than this. This is the only thing that makes sense. This is who I am, this is who I should always be. Because it wouldn’t feel so right if it wasn’t. It wouldn’t feel so good – it wouldn’t feel like all of a sudden I’ve slotted into place, finally found my niche, found who and what and how I want to be – if it wasn’t meant to be, if it wasn’t really me.

Knowing that this is what I’m meant to be makes me feel even more enthusiastic, even more warm and fuzzy inside. Because if this is who I really am, and I’m being it now, then it won’t go away, it’ll stay with me forever and I’ll never feel anything else apart from this rising, bubbling energy that makes everything so wonderfully easy.

My parents are coming to fetch me in….eleven hours or so. I haven’t packed. I haven’t tidied my room. I’m going to get up in the morning and do it all as quickly as I can. Like a race. Something to pass the time, I suppose.

So, yeah. In just a few hours, I’ll be home for Christmas. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to see my family, to see my friends. I can’t wait for the tree and the lights and the food and drink and laughter and Christmas tv and maybe even a bit of snow. I can’t wait. It’s all going to be amazing.


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


This blog has been visited

  • 81,900 times.
June 2020