Self-hate
Tuesday, March 22, 2011 at 11:44PM 
Only in my happiest moments do I get to see, by contrast, how much self-hate I carry around. When I’m happiest, if you poke me the right way, to make a tiny hole, if you wiggle at it and make the hole larger, the self-hate spills out and starts nagging at my happy covers, demanding my attention, spilling words like ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and lost. If I could only ignore it and know it’s not true. But no, I get hooked. I find clues all around me to confirm that this is true. I even enjoy the “being the victim” game – because I’m so used to it. It’s so easy, it prompts others to play the game too, to feel sorry for me – and I soak it all up, and continue sliding down the mud path, not even trying to hold on to some roots, some common sense, logic, facts.
It’s an emotional downpour from here on. And, of course, I’ve lost my covers. Or maybe I never had any in the first place, not even clothes, nothing. I have to go stumble through fog and believe that this will end, that everything ends, that I’ll be dry and warm and happy again – but I don’t. I have no strength to walk so I slide down into the dirt, cold and shivering. It only gets worse. I look so pathetically inviting to others to exercise their compassion that they pour their hearts out, and I nearly drown. I need a “pick-me-up” strategy, but instead I believe that there is no exit. I view others high up there, and it seems to me that everything they have is just that much better, every way they live is just so much more rewarding, everything they ever dreamt about is just so much more within their reach. And I keep shrinking. I want to disappear since I’m not even strong enough to face myself in the mirror – maybe if I can’t see myself, they’ll forget about my existence. Maybe if I hide - I won't exist and everyone will simply cross me out of their lives - like I never was. I think that it's that simple - I can be gone, and everything will resolve for the better. I won't be a sore point in other's eyes - they will have their peace, and I will have mine.
I compare. I look at others, and I see myself as being absolutely wrong - in everything - starting from my looks and finishing with my thoughts. Someone, somewhere - I think - has come up with a blueprint against which we all ought to measure ourselves - and we do. We stretch out if we feel like we're too short, we try to fold down if we come across as a bit too tall, we exercise our brains if we think ourselves not enough educated, and we shut down our feelings if we feel we get too much into the "not so normal" zone - just t keep up with those blue lines, with the ultimate architect's drawings - to the tenth of the inch - looking over our shoulders at our neighbors, comparing, comparing, comparing. It is a fucking contest, isn't it? Who has a thinner body, who has a cuter face, a nicer family, more talented kids, a better husband, a bigger house, a cooler car, a wider lawn, a more stunning view, a cleverer joke, and on and on and on. We look so much around us that at some point our little heads detach from all the twisting, except we don't notice. We keep walking around, blind, thinking we see, but not realizing we've lost our heads some years ago, and now walk forward by inertion, simply because our body keeps moving.
We plan and project and categorize and execute, always looking up for approval - is this right, did we adhere to the norm, can we safely be proud of our achievements? Is it ok to show what we can do, will we be laughed at because of our incompetence or inexperience, or do we get to show off how smart and amazing we are? Perfect ground for self-hate - if something is amiss, we're the first ones to suffer, we bite ourselves, we make ourselves hurt, we punish and punish and punish. But for what? For a hypothetical reason of not fitting to the norm. And exactly who established the norm? What does it mean? What does one have to do to come across as normal, and why is it so scary to be different from the crowd? Because it's noticeable. Because everyone will be looking at you if you're very tall or very short or very fat or very skinny. You would have kids pointing at you, and adults turning their gaze away, and friends looking warmly but only into your eyes, to not come across as rude by observing the rest of your body. That's when it turns inward. When we feel we're different. When I feel I'm different. I wish I was the same as the rest. Predictable. Plain. Simple. Flat. Tasteless. Quiet. Even and unemotional. But I'm not.
I look at myself and find it hard to love it - this - me. I have to learn. To appreciate what is different about me, what can be cherished, what can help me fall in love - with myself. If it's possible. Looking at myself in the mirror and liking what I see. For once. Will that day come one day? I hope so. I really really do.
Photo by Mike Bailey-Gates.
Reader Comments (5)
You put your thoughts about this topic out there so eloquently. I can see alot of myself in what you say. I rarely ever share these thoughts with anyone. I keep them bottled-up inside. I have thought of myself like an M&M - thin candy shell that is easily poked, crushed, melts if any heat is applied. I get little signs everyday that it might/is getting better, that I count. I wish you the best on your journey and know there are others out here willing to talk, listen & empathize.
Thank you - love the M&M's analogy - makes me think of a bunch of them melting in a palm of a stranger, crushed and stuck between fingers - nasty image, I know, but somehow hits close to home. Thanks for your comment again :)
I can relate to so much from all you have written and I have read and lived. There is no such thing as normal in society. We all battle for our beliefs or to keep face in society. I do not believe that there is ever one true soul out there that is not battling something personally, professionally or economically or financially but getting others to admit the truth...well it's hard. It's hard when I am reading this all because I do relate to alot that I have only shared with my closest friends. I have a very limited support group and people tend to get offended when they tell me I am brave or courageous or pity me kind of deal. Because I turn it that we all face life's shocks, traumas, and are never truly in control even when we think we are. Mother Nature makes sure to keep us all humble and compassion filled if we look at the natural disasters that go on in the world. There are countries that intentionally allow abuse or submissive control of genders based upon religion as well. So we all are striving to keep up. I don't blame my fear as much as I do the world's denial. Feeling the weight of denial about the truth of the words 'normal" and "abuse" constantly wear me out and tire me down emotionally. It's a David and Goliath story still being written in our society. The non-profit organizations step up and out all trying to do their cause but when it comes to uniting humanity to the impact of child abuse, the evolution of progression isn't happening enough. I have days that I feel I never want to sleep because I am truly savoring every second of happiness I am on and then the days of low set in and burden that none of my efforts will ever matter and I sleep but never rest. I have been like this my whole life. But when I feel that a person has a message, a cause or anything for the greater good of others, what better sacrifice to make then to be an example of what being human is about? I set myself up for heartache, rejection, fear, and isolation because I do speak so boldly about the truths of their being no normal human beings or standard of living and child abuse. I have passion with everything I do in life to produce happiness or wear myself down physically and emotionally but I would never trade passion for life, for others and my own hurt to be mainstream charactizeration of no titles. I live freestyle and support every lifestyle as long as no one is getting hurt...rich or poor, educated or uneducated...everyone in our human race deserves to know their own happiness, their own lifestyle, and their own comforts as long as it is based upon truth. Sorry for rambling and getting carried away but it's interesting to read your thoughts and I am sharing mine:) Thank you for a great outlet. You are not alone.
Dear Cynthia - thank you so much for your comment, and you are not rambling! I'm so happy you can relate - that means that I am not alone - though sometimes I do feel like I am alone. Thanks for sharing yourself :)
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