An online journal created to seek meaning and purpose, to feel,

to dream, to discover, to spread joy and light, to love all of creation,

to glorify and magnify the Creator.



Monday, April 8, 2013

11:53

It was worst at night. I started inventing things, and then I couldn’t stop, like beavers, which I know about. People think they cut down trees so they can build dams, but in reality it’s because their teeth never stop growing, and if they didn’t constantly file them down by cutting through all those trees, their teeth would start to grow into their own faces, which would kill them. That’s how my brain was.
Jonathan Safran Foer - Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

So the infamous John Green quote, "My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations"?
Currently inapplicable.
My thoughts are not merely stars. Not even close.
My thoughts are an intricate web of constellations that are composed of so many stars, so many connecting lines, that it's become impossible to retrace over them and take myself back to the start.
The process of "connecting the dots" was not the most difficult part at all.
It's ridding of them.
It's getting rid of these constellations that have multiplied before me unknowingly, and have placed the greatest pressures and burdens on my fragile back.
These constellations, drawn so close together that all there really is in my mind is, black. - As if I've drawn so many lines that trying to erase them one at a time is a hopeless and tedious duty that I must take on in order to REST.
I JUST WANT REST.

So yeah. Here it is. My helpless, restless attempt at trying to understand myself.
Prepare yourself for the most uncoordinated post ever, as I attempt to retrace and erase even just the surface of my thoughts.

I'm so... (Finally going to say the forbidden word of the past weekend), tired.
I'm tired of trying to keep up with myself.
What once kept me composed, balanced, sane even, ended up being what killed me.
I've developed such an image for myself, that it disappoints me immensely when I don't hold up to it.
And holding up to it is truly an unimaginable pressure in itself.

"I was better than this", I'd think, EVERY SINGLE TIME I disappoint someone, I hurt someone, I don't pick up on school as easily as I once did, I was not there to help someone out, I don't have enough inspiration or motivation, I am not as involved as I was before, I'm not where I want to be... The list goes on. I want to do everything. I want to be everything. I want to be there for everyone.

Each and every weakness I possess, and my act of recognizing and picking on every one of them is ripping me apart.
"I am Camille. I love to smile. I love nature, trees, sunflowers, fish, black leather!? I love enjoying life, I love capturing, I love creating, I love living, I love God. I dedicate myself to helping others to the best of my abilities and being available to listen. I stay true to my beliefs and values. I have a loving and supporting family. I am capable of getting good grades. I have the most diverse set of loyal and genuine best friends anyone could imagine."
And I do. I love what I am and really do wish to keep being me.
But when I don't hold up to this image, I'm automatically see myself as some kind of horrible person.
I'm not.
I just have a really hard time accepting and embracing imperfection.

Last year, I was able to hold on to a 94 average, I was a member of probably every school club and I worked part-time.
Last year, I was able to hold myself together, despite my crazy schedule in which 30 minutes of free time seemed to be the greatest thing in the world.
So why is it that this year, when I finally decide to give myself a breather, I find myself more out of breath than ever before? Literally. I can't even breathe.

There hasn't been a single night these past two weeks that I didn't spend staring at the ceiling in my pitch black room.
Weak.
Hopeless.
Just allowing myself to drown in my thoughts and in my tears.
And consequently, there hasn't been a single morning that I didn't wake up to tired eyes and a bed immersed in kleenex.
And it scares me to see my eyes. It scares me to stare at my reflection, and to see an image of sickness.
It scares me to peer at the clock and to count the hours I didn't spend sleeping.
But that's yet another thought to add into the extensive spinning mobile of thoughts that I stare up at in my mind every second of the day.

My thoughts are consuming me.
Even staying in the present is an unbearable task for me.
And how am I able to be PRESENT for people if I'm not even IN THE PRESENT.
Whenever I'm in school, watching TV, out on a jog, flying a kite, eating out with my family...
My mind is elsewhere.

My mind, so focussed on what's to come and so consumed in worries, never rests.
I'm tired of spending three hours on a worksheet that I could have finished in 10 minutes because I keep straying elsewhere.
I'm tired of knowing everything before a test, and completely blanking out in the midst of it.
I'm tired of my thoughts and how space they take up in my brain, leaving no room for things that actually matter.
I'm tired of missing school and having to catch up.
I'm tired of having to explain myself.
I'm tired of depending on people to keep me distracted.
I'm tired of crying.
I'm tired of not being able to fully enjoy the weekend that I anticipated all year.
I'm tired of seeing my mom cry over my condition.
I'm tired of burdening my dad and compelling him to leave work so that he can check up on me.
I'm tired of giving every little thing the power to piss me off because my mind is constantly under pressure.
I'm tired of feeling like having to vomit because I have so much negativity that I desperately need to expel, raging inside of me.

I don't want to catch up with myself anymore.
I need to learn how to slow my pace down.
I'm tired. I'm so, so tired.

I hate how my writing isn't even capable of setting me free.
It does so little to convey the depth of my situation.
Disappointing.
Expected.

I'm sorry for showing weakness.
I'm not "supposed to be" like this.

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