I hate myself

I want to be honest about how much I hate myself.

I feel like a piece of shit, like a worthless nothing. There’s no polite or beautiful way to put it.

It is not negative thoughts that can be batted away or questioned, or dismissed as opinion not fact, it is a deep sense of knowing. It’s so ingrained it’s hard to imagine things ever being any different. And I have tried mindfulness and positive affirmations, and self kindness and compassion therapy and CBT and mood boosting exercises and altering my appearance and habits, and it can work for a little while, minutes, hours, days… but then…

I just can’t outrun it. I just hate myself.

Last night I went dancing, to beautiful music with wonderful people, in one of my favourite places to go. And I was fighting off anxiety and self doubt all afternoon, I was shaking, felt sick, needed to go to the toilet about 40 times before leaving the house, but I dolled myself up and felt good for a while, and I danced and laughed and hugged my friends.  But when I stopped dancing I kept feeling the tears rise up so I had to start dancing again, give myself to the music and put myself into a trance so I didn’t have to be so aware of my own head, or myself.

And I left a little early before closing time with my friend, and we came home and I cried. And I confessed about how much I hated myself and how I can’t go on anymore and that I feel like I want to die. Because it’s all just too much for me.

I want you to know that when I’m smiling and laughing and dancing and hugging and loving others it is genuine, but in between I am often crying and empty and I am so tired of being this way. And it’s not getting any easier.

Please don’t tell me to try fresh air and yoga and meditate and eat whole foods, not because I don’t appreciate good intentions and advice, but because I have lived so long with this and tried to so many things and I feel like a failure because I just can’t seem to tap into the right combination of things for a sustainable amount of time to keep me on an even keel.

And I have glimpses of things being okay. I can appreciate my body, I can feel good about the clothes I wear, the way I present myself, the way I make people laugh. I can appreciate that I am essentially a good, kind person, that I have good qualities. But it never lasts and never feels as real as or as believable as the self loathing. It feels like I’ve been tricked into believing that I, that things, were going to be okay, and I am foolish for falling for it. It is like a chemical betrayal in my brain, like a temporary sedative that has worn off, because the self loathing feels like that natural state, not the confident and self assured me.

And I am so needy and insecure, so desperate for others attention and approval, because without it I am completely unbearably lost and alone and afraid, and the negative thoughts start to win and I hate myself for it.

So I just have to stumble through this hour, this day, this weekend, this week, with this familiar cloud hanging over me, trying to like myself and appreciate my life enough that I don’t want to die. That’s all I have right now. Survival.

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