A Little Insight RSS

Here is a window into the world of me, Cameron, 20, England.

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Jun
17th
Mon
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A Canvas of Flesh

While I have never self-harmed per se, I constantly imagine doing so. I imagine carving out shapes and lines on my chest, using my own body as some sort of grotesque canvas as a means to express myself; the branded flesh representing emotions I otherwise can’t express, providing a permanent, physical record and evidence to intangible mental anguish. I would notch myself for every day, tally as to never forget. 

But I don’t. I hold knives against my skin, and think about it. But I stop myself. I guess what little self-preservation I have left shows itself, probably for the best, despite part of me wishing it didn’t. My skin remains unblemished, even if my mind is more scarred than ever. 

Jun
4th
Tue
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stinkky:

melesmelesxvx:

snapdraws:

Apologies for the terrible image quality - I’m lacking scanner access at the minute so I had to take these photos on my phone

I was reading hyperbole and a half’s blog entry explaining their experience of depression and decided to make another sketchy comic based on my experiences with anxiety, which is another mental illness I think people tend to misunderstand quite frequently

Hopefully this will be of use to some people - whether they suffer from anxiety themselves or if they just want to know more about it

Spot on.

This is so perfect ;__; Especially the bit about people only being supportive until they get bored. 

I don’t usually reblog things, but this is so accurate. Depression is pretty much the same too….

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Delight in the Agony

Sometimes I just can’t hold it back any more. I drop the restraints and let the psychopathic killer in my mind run rampant. 


I equip him. Blades, the weapon of choice.

I channel him. My rage is his stimulate.

I unleash him. My reality enacted on my terms.


And then I delight in him.

Delight in the agony. 

May
31st
Fri
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Why Bother Hoping

Right now, I remembering and feeling why I never usually begin to dream of maybe someday having the possibility of a hope of an off-chance of which there’s a remote chance of being able to achieve something I’d wished.

I don’t want to leave my bed ever again. I just want to curl up into a ball and cry. But of course, I can’t even cry any more… I don’t think I’ll bother hoping anymore. Even the little things are impossible and heartbreaking….

May
30th
Thu
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A Bolt Through the Head

I dream of this.

I see myself, holding a gun, square against the side of my head, left side, slightly above and in front of the ear. I pull the trigger, without so much as a word or a whimper. I feel as the bullet rips through my head, cleanly exiting the other side. I see my insides laid out, the blood, the brain matter and fractured skull painted on the walls.

I imagine this. 

I slump in my chair, all life draining away from me in moments, the gunshot sound still reverberating. Yet I remain. My head begins to reform. The wound closes up, healing in rapid fashion. Within moments, it’s as if nothing had torn its way through in the first place.

I feel this.

In utter terror upon realisation of what has happened after I pulled the trigger, I try again, this time I fire once, twice, a third, and a forth. In similar fashion they tear through once more, but once more they close up without so much as scar.

I am tormented by this.

I am left there, both horrified and empty. The only escape I have ever felt I’ve had is nothing but another false hope. I sit there and cry, a despondent hollow shell with nothing but anguish to be found within.

I yearn for this.

May
14th
Tue
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What is this “Sleep”?

I’ve been up for over 44 hours straight now. I’m pretty sure this a a record for me. It will definitely be a record by the time I’ve finished Uni (thank Jebus it will be early due to stupid presentations we have to give…) We’ll be look at least 55 hours by the time I get a chance to sleep. I’m not sure how I’m still going. Usually my entire body is completely and utterly falling to bits by this point but no, somehow I’m still going. Only recently have my eyelids started to feel heavy either.

All things considered, I’m relatively well composed, with only minimal effects to my typing speed, though I suspect my reflexes are far from the sharpest at the moment. I’m starting to get raving starving mad however with not a great deal to eat unfortunately. I Think I’m going to have some chips to fill me up, and failing that later, porridge. 

While I am long due some more proper posts (As per usual), due to my severe sleep deprivation, I’m not sure anything I write will have it’s usual rhythm (If you’ll allow me to be so audacious about myself…). 

For now then, I shall sign off this very short and dull post…

Apr
17th
Wed
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So many thought, not enough words

I’ve been trying to write a long post for a while now. I did another short one a couple of days ago but it decided it didn’t want to post, and the proceeded to disappear off the face of the planet.

I’ve had so much on my mind as of late. Problems of all different sorts and sizes, all of which combined feel like a burden that I just cannot bare. I have no one to turn to, to get my problems off my chest, let alone advice or help. The crippling isolation of it all is probably what makes me the least able to cope. Though enough about me for a moment, let me indulge in a dive into the realm of my woes in relation to other people. 

Person A

A has also been somewhat volatile. She has her own struggles. She has her own very real life problems. She is a living, breathing human, made of flesh and bone, a fact that many seem to forget. A’s problems are definitely triggered by real life events, most of which she doesn’t have a great deal of control over. She has been unlucky yes, but not as much as she feels.

Her issues arise from how to deals with the challenges throws at her; Often the way she reacts does no favours for her. She overreacts to trivial matters, that should only hold a short sway over her emotions. This, combined with everything else, often makes her very miserable, or worse, livid. She’s as good as threatened to self-harm, with the reasoning, maybe it will make things better. She puts herself in a little bubble, refusing to listen to reasoning despite hers being completely irrational. I offer my advice, or sometimes just support, but she brushes it away.

As a result, there is little I can do to help. It’s painful to watch, powerless. All I can do is hope and pray that she will calm down and see sense before she does something.


Person B

 

B and I don’t really have a massive amount in common. We had completely different upbringings, for the most part different interests, different way of responding to things, etc. But despite all that, we have depression in common. We originally bonded over a difficult time in her life and have been very close friends ever since. 

When I left to go to uni a year and a half ago, we drifted away, and talked little. Occasionally I would remember a random time we shared and send her a quick message, though for the most part, conversation was fleeting. Fast forward to about a month or so ago, and we get talking. She tells me she’s tried to kill herself recently.

My heart drops. Every worry I had for her for when I got her through that difficult time beforehand, come racing back. She tells me after she tried, her uni found out and referred her to a specialist and she has for the first time, been diagnosed with depression. 

I spend the next few weeks, a little on edge. We meet up over Easter. The plan was just once for a few hours, but in the end, I went home a day later just so I could spend another evening with her. I stay over and I leave in the morning. Leaving her house that day was probably the hardest goodbye I’ve ever had in my life. It’s by this point that I realise that every fibre in my being is terrified for her and once again, as with A, there is nothing I could do at all. 

Since then, we’ve talked a few times, but only really when she’s been just about okay and for the most part, I’m not sure it could really be considered talking, just a few exchanged sentences. When she is in utter despair, she shuts out the world, and she doesn’t want to speak to anyone. As a result, even when something is up, I don’t know and even if she did, it’d be a miracle for her to reply to me. Again, I’m completely useless…

Person C

C is new to me. I don’t know her problems, I’m not sure she’s aware of mine thought that’s probably for the best for now at least. Mainly a friend of a friend, I have become somewhat infatuated for no discernible reason, which is odd for me. She is pretty and tolerates me, but for some reason, my mind has made as massive leap with a person whom I barely know. I guess hows or whys aren’t really an issue. More of the dilemma is produces.

My last 2 relationships broke down for half of the same reason. I’m about as mentally stable as South Park character and there is little to nothing anyone can do about it. As a result, I’ve got a massive decision. Provided the interest is mutual, do I selfishly risk it all, hope that my problems will go away or at least become more controlled for some reason, while running the risk that it comes to a screeching halt because I’m a miserable fuck whom long term exposure is most likely tortuous? Or do turn down a chance of some sort of happiness to prevent any chance of my misery increasing, or worse, spreading?  

 

I was originally going to write much more, but I desperately need to get some sleep. In the next coming days, I shall try to cover so more of the things plaguing my mind, now that the people of concern are mostly mentioned…..

Apr
9th
Tue
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Extremes

It’s too late to go bed.
It’s too early to be up.

Whether or not that it’s the reality, in my reality, my life is full of the extremes, many of which are absolutes.


There is no hope for change.
There is no point on going on living.

De
spite all I do to look at things objectively, the truth that I see are only these extremes.

There is nothing I can ever do to improve.
There is too much pain to be able to cope.

The lines between absolute truths and my own personal truths are something I can no longer rely on myself to distinguish between.

Despair envelops me.
Despair consumes me. 

As they blur, I lose myself more and more within myself; An endless labyrinth of suffering.

The things I’ve seen can never be forgotten.
The end is just an illusion of cruelty.

Apr
8th
Mon
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A much longer post coming but a quick note. I could not live without this person in my life.  http://www.flickr.com/photos/camerontp/8630298533/in/photostream/lightbox/

A much longer post coming but a quick note. 

I could not live without this person in my life.  

http://www.flickr.com/photos/camerontp/8630298533/in/photostream/lightbox/

Mar
8th
Fri
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… Is now following….

Yesterday, someone started following me on here, and it got my mind ticking.

Why?

I know that may seem like I don’t want them to, for that is not the case. My question is, what have they to gain from having the mad ramblings of a hopeless stranger on their Tumblr feed?

To put the person into context, many years ago, I use to play a game with this person and that is how I met them. Since those many years, I have barely talked to them. A while ago I found my way onto their Tumblr page and decided to start following them due to my humour being similar to theirs, as well as generally being interested in other peoples lives.

This brings me to yesterday when they started following me back. I was somewhat surprised; They don’t know me so they don’t have any real social obligation to do so, nor am I guessing they consider me a friend so unlikely to care more than anyone would for someone in distress. My posts on here are always miserable so its not like I have anything constructive to add to their life either.

I guess why anyone who I don’t directly effect their life, would waste their time reading about my problems is a complete mystery to me. My only conclusion is interest/fascination or a similarity/conection to their life, that latter I hope not being the case for their sake.

I’m just both intrigued and very touched that someone might actually read some of the shit I write on here.


If you’re reading this and stuff matches up with you, sorry you have become the subject of my incessant droning.