I Hate Myself
12/11/11
I hate
myself.
This is
not a new thing for me, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, this seems
to be somewhat of a recurring theme in my life; which is yet another thing I am
unhappy with myself about.
This
constant cycle of self-hatred is something that has defined my life for many
years; since I was in elementary school at least. While most kids were learning
how to socialize with one another, I learned how to loathe myself and hate
other people. This bitterness that I have been fighting against was born during
that time in my life. Its roots are deep and every time I think I have uprooted
it, it comes back, fully flowered and as strong and vibrant as it ever were.
All of
my self-destructive tendencies are coming up to the surface. I manage not to
give into most of them, such as picking up a pack of smokes or cutting on
myself. Both of those actions would be addressing the same hatred and urge to
destroy that which I loathe, albeit slowly. Drinking is out, dive to various
medications, and I have written about how that very has been riding me as well.
And why
don’t I give into the old habits? Why don’t I gave into the incessant urging of
the monkeys riding my back? It would be easier for everyone around me if I just
quit fights against the old demons, right? Wouldn’t I be easier to live with?
No.
Those
habits of self-destruction ruled me when I imbibed in them on a regular basis.
Besides, since kicking them, why would I want to go back? There are so many
more options when it comes to self-destruction. Why repeat myself? That would
be boring.
Seriously,
though, what I really want is to not hate myself. It almost seems like too much
to ask of my own psyche, considering what’s going on, but that’s my goal. I
thought I had actually reached it for a while there, but this illness has
taught me differently. This illness is teaching me quite a bit about me; a lot
of which I can’t say that I like all that much.
I
suppose I could end it, but that seems too damned fifteen year old girl for me
anymore In reality, things aren't that bad yet. I have an excellent support
structure, and I currently have health insurance. It’s damnably hard to look at
the bright side of things, though, when the pain is constant and you cannot
even plan for the next day. I have to re-learn what my limitations are. Just
knowing that there are very real limitations on what I am capable of doing at
any given point in time is bloody fucking depressing.
I know
that I need to cut myself some slack and allow myself time to heal. After all,
I just had an exacerbation a couple of weeks ago and I just finished off the
oral step down steroid regimen. I acknowledge the full possibility that this
canker-blossom of self-hate might very well be fueled by the steroids, but it
still stems from my own inborn self-loathing.
Writing this out is helping a
little bit. At least, it is making me feel like I am actually doing something,
besides laying around like a lump.
Mommy-Ne
and Bryan Paul were going to come over and help me clean today. I cancelled due
to the headache I have been down wise most of this weekend. The headache is
probably due to Cookies. Cookies one evil. Cookies are just the latest way to
kill myself, I think. It wouldn’t surprise me if the steroids plus cookies have
thrown me into diabetes. That fact does nothing to make me care for myself any
more than I already d. Part of me just looks at this as another betrayal.
Yes.
Another way I betrayed myself.
Selfish.
Stupid. Short-sighted.
Well, I
know what needs to be done, at least partly. Carbohydrates are over-rated
anyway… right?
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