“I think you have to allow people to love you.”
“I just see you as rather being too hard on yourself.”
“Sometimes I can’t tell whether you hate yourself or you’re just really constantly angry at everything.”
You know something needs changing when you get all of the above said to you by different people, within 24 hours.
It doesn’t take much for me to agree that I am my own worst critic. I still cringe every time I get reminded of how much I hated myself back then. Not sure how it came to be, but it turns out that my fight with self-hatred is taking an unbelievably long time to recover from.
From quite early on, I used to deny myself any sense of achievement and instantly tuck everything away in the “glitch in the system / pure luck” folder. Also, blaming myself for everything that happened around me came around almost naturally. Enter repressed grief and a relationship that I was not willing to admit that it was abusive, well.. self-love kind of just kept on sliding down the slope.
Now that I’ve come to think of it, no wonder things got physical for me. Being the psychosomatic mess that I am, the whole works went on. Stress rash, insomnia, liver problems, eating issues, and of course, the icing on the cake, the heart. I became the girl who was cradling a broken heart 24/7, figuratively and literally. And how did I cope with it? Why, through self-deprecating jokes of course. It was only a matter of time until the thoughts came creeping up on me. I’m just glad I’ve always been stubborn enough to just keep thinking “One more day. Just one more day, if that turns out real bad then we bail” (Which I’ve never done up to this moment. Thankfully).
I am getting help. I am working on myself. I am seeking forgiveness from my own being by deciding to finally start taking care of myself. It has been a continuous struggle, I admit, but I have to. I owe it to myself.
Seeing how I’ve always been doing things quite alright, let’s hope this one works out as well. No more relapse.