Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Posts Tagged ‘insomnia

Everything is dull and grey and out-of-focus, the horrible light of the early hours, when everything seems realer and duller and more miserable than at any other time of the day.

I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know what I’m doing.

At work, I’ve been reacquainted with a previous boss, and he’s so fucking good at his job. He’s trying to help me. Gently pushing, encouraging, praising. Making me feel like my contribution is worthwhile. Setting me special tasks – complex, challenging, new – because he knows I’d get bored otherwise, and if I get bored then I just give up. He wants me to have an aim, and he wants to help me move towards it. I don’t know how to tell him what I want. Sometimes I want to yell at everyone to stop movement, stop progress, just wait, stay still for a moment so I can gather my thoughts, this perpetual lurching forward makes me feel sick. Sometimes I want to collapse in a heap and finally admit out loud: I lack drive because I lack confidence. I lack direction because I have yet to convince myself that my future exists. I only survive by living completely in the present.

At home, everything is the same. I don’t have the energy to give details. It’s all just the same. Exhausting just to think about.

I feel…separate. Can’t connect with anyone. I can chat but not talk. I can make people laugh and listen to their problems and give them advice, but if they want to hang out with someone, it won’t be me they choose. I don’t know how to make a meaningful connection with anyone, and I don’t even know if I want to. I’ve spent my whole life struggling with that one: do I notice the lack of closeness because I want it, or because everyone else expects me to have it? I think I could probably live quite happily alone, never connecting with anyone, if only people didn’t insist on reminding me as regularly possible how weird that is.

I can’t sleep. I can’t think. Everything is a dream. A dull, pointless dream.

I’m too afraid to move.

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Posted on: September 17, 2012

It’s 11:30pm, Monday. I’ve been awake since approximately 9:00am, Sunday.

It’s been a long time since this has happened. I thought my sleeping problems were largely solved.

I can feel my heart racing and there’s this tingling sensation just beneath my skin. It’s old and familiar and I’m not quite sure how to get away from it. Last night I watched the light go from grey to black to grey again as I paced my room and held imaginary conversations in my head and painted my nails and Googled random bullshit and regularly lay down and closed my eyes and tried to sleep and felt every breath and pulse and muscle shift for what seemed like a century, then rolled over and checked the time and it had only been 10 minutes.

I need to get out of this. I went to work today and things were fine, but I can’t do it for another day, even if I get an hour or two it’s not really going to be enough. I need to pull the plug or pour water on the circuitboard or something, anything to shut me down for a bit so I can rest and then maybe when I wake up I will feel more in control of myself.

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Ah, that old chestnut.

My parents are on holiday.

Over the past few days, there’s been a noticeable change in me. I’m not sleeping (hence why this is being written at 6am. I turned the light off, I went to bed, I couldn’t stop thinking or moving or distracting myself, so I thought fuck it, I’ll come here and write about it and maybe that will wear me out). I’m eating less, too. I feel tingly and jittery and slightly irritable. I’ve been writing stories (1000 words is the magic number. After that – and often before – , I get bored or distracted or decide it’s rubbish or it just stops), and over the weekend I went shopping, and spent hundreds of pounds on clothes (and this is me. I live in natty old jeans).

So which is it? Coincidence or causation? Am I ridiculously hyperactive etc. because my parents are away – no enforced routine (might as well eat when they cook, might as well go to bed before they get suspicious), no fear of being shouted at, just a general lack of arsiness – or is it all just a coincidence?

I don’t know.

I’m not sure what it means, if it’s causation. Probably that I’ll never be able to leave. If a few days away from them sends me into overdrive, then I doubt I can be trusted away from them permanently. But if it’s coincidence, then it’s just one more things that I can’t explain, can’t stick a label on and tidy it away into a box. And it means it might happen again when my parents are here, and that scares me, because I know they would be angry with me if they saw me like this – my mother, especially, isn’t fond of me showing any more animation than is absolutely necessary.

Yeah, you read that right. I have a job. I start in three weeks.

It’s not necessarily ideal. Not particularly exciting.

But it seems interesting, challenging but not demoralisingly difficult, and it seems like a happy place to be, full of friendly, laid-back people. And there’s the money, of course – not brilliant, but it’s comfortably above minimum wage, with plenty of potential bonuses. And it seems like something I could do – a job where I could actually cope and learn and have ideas.

And, well, I’m not entirely sure what I want to do with the rest of my life, so I might as well fill the time while I’m deciding doing something that’ll look good on my CV (experience, and training, and proving that I am actually slightly employable). And if I never make a decision, at least I have a job.  Read the rest of this entry »

I am struggling, really quite a lot.

Read the rest of this entry »

Gaaaah.

Posted on: May 14, 2010

Awake until the sun comes up. Try to sleep. Lay awake for an hour or more. Drift off. Wake up before most sane people’s alarms go off.

I went to my exam. I’ve spent all my time, including that in the exam room, pretty much in denial. This isn’t an exam. I’m not doing exams. This doesn’t count. It can’t. Even when I’ve tried to make it real, tried to make myself care, it’s not quite working.

Things are starting to get a bit bleak again.

Curling up on my bathroom floor, the coldest, darkest, smallest place I can go. Wishing there was somewhere a hundred times colder, darker, smaller. Wanting to compress it all and stuff it in a tiny box so that the rest of the space around me isn’t contaminated. Blankness and tiredness and bone-deep inaction, interspersed with pointless pacing of my room and bursts of tears. What am I doing?

And the ever-approaching creep of death, death, death. Look the other way. Don’t let it consume me. Hum to myself and pretend it’s not there but I know really, and however much I try to hold it at arm’s length, sooner or later it starts to make sense.


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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