Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Posts Tagged ‘mental illness

I hurt myself last night. It’s been a while.

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As time goes by, I get worse. I’ve become the kind of person I hate, and I can only see it getting worse. I feel like there’s just a scooped-out hollow where my heart used to be.

Today, I made my mother cry. I made her cry by saying something cold and heartless and bitchy and true. (She asked, “don’t you like me?” and I looked her straight in the eye and, with a small smile, replied “not much”.) Now she’s downstairs sobbing and all I can think is that I hope she quietens down; the noise is disturbing my peace and quiet.

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The room is full of them.

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I don’t believe anymore.

I don’t believe that I am ill, or that I can be fixed, or even helped.

There’s no longer a sense of just wait. When the time is right, get some help, and it will all be over.

It’s bullshit. Read the rest of this entry »

Life isn’t going well.

Anxiety is becoming an enormous problem. It’s a constant background hum, keeping me in a state of edginess all day and all night, and bursting into several panic attacks a day. I think they’re panic attacks. Never been told they are, but I don’t know what else they could be. My heart races and my vision blurs and I’m shaking and I’m pacing my room and I feel like I’m going to throw up and I can’t breathe and I can’t think anything other than shitshitshitshitshit.

And then it stops and I burst into tears and I lie down on my bed and everything is hideous.

And I’m thinking, fuck. I have to die. Because this whole ‘living’ thing really isn’t working out. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m alright now. A bit low, a bit teary, nothing serious. I have an absolute monster of a cold.

This past month or two, my moods have been…extreme. Read the rest of this entry »

I can’t stop thinking about the person I used to be.

I know it’s stupid, and not particularly helpful. Maybe if I could forget what it was like to be happy then I could learn to accept that this is all there is now. But I hold on, so desperately, to these memories, because they are all I have left of my life. Read the rest of this entry »


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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