Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Posts Tagged ‘unhappiness

Life isn’t going brilliantly. I mean, it could be worse, of course – but when is that not the case?

The good news is that I’m not suicidal. Hardly even thinking about dying, actually, so…gold star and a smiley face for me..

I don’t really know if I could even say that I’m depressed. This mood, it’s not the melodramatic hand-wringing I know I’ve been enveloped by before. I’m not weeping all the time (just occasional tears, slipping out of my eyes when I’m not paying attention), or thinking of hurting myself in any way. It’s just…nothing.

I’m constantly tired, but sleeping very little. I haven’t washed my hair in what feels like weeks, but what I hope is less than that. I haven’t been out of the house for over a week. My social circle consists of my parents and my brother. I haven’t spoken to anyone else.

My birthday brought the predictable flurry of Facebook comments, which felt empty and pointless and devoid of any meaning (although to be perfectly honest, it felt no more empty and pointless and devoid of meaning than every other thing in my life). I hate the thought of people pitying me, people being nice because they know I don’t have any real friends (maybe I used to, once. But I’ve blocked them out and driven them away).

I have a job interview in a couple of weeks. I probably won’t get it. They said they wanted someone “bubbly”.

My life has shrunk. I’m not sure I can even properly remember a life where I felt I could leave the house. The thought of shopping and meeting friends and chatting and laughing and drinking and dancing…it all seems so foreign to me now. I’m actually quite scared when I think about going outside, now. Terrified when I think of seeing anyone I know. Terrified that one look at my face will tell them how much of a failure and a disappointment I am. To be perfectly honest, I’m almost as scared of staying in the house as I am of leaving it, but I have to choose one or the other.

I feel trapped, but also afraid of being anywhere else.

Every day is long and empty and I can’t see my life ever being any different. It’s a frightening thought, that this might be it forever. That I’ve made my bed and now I must lie in it, lonely and scared and completely without hope, for the rest of my life. It could be decades.

All the dreams I’ve ever had have turned to dust. There is no way out.

I’ll start with a good thing. I’ve been working for the past week or so, and it’s been good. Exhausting, frustrating and endlessly challenging, but a welcome distraction from the real world. And I got on really well with my colleagues, and they’ve been adding me on Facebook like we’re actually friends.

I had a bit of a wobble today, I suppose. I was on the train and I stood up. Then I looked back at where I’d been sitting, and I know now that someone had just sat in my seat, but at the time I started panicking that I wasn’t a real person and that I was some sort of weird spirit that was possessing people.

I told my mum about failing. My dad’s not back from work yet so I don’t know how he’ll take it. I think my mum took it okay but I’m not sure. She keeps saying it doesn’t matter, but I’d believe her a bit more if she hadn’t been constantly asking for several weeks if I know what grade I’ve got. And she said, “Oh, but we’ve got all sorts of things to celebrate…we’ll have to have them anyway”. So I’m going to be eating cake that says “congratulations” on it, and sipping champagne like anything I’ve done in my life is worth celebrating. She said there are more important things in life. I said, “Like what?” The first thing she said was “like being happy”.

I can’t even do that. Read the rest of this entry »


Posted on: May 14, 2009

I feel so grumpy. Just generally irritable and pissed off.

I stayed away from people all day because I knew I’d probably end up being a bitch to them. 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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