I feel like the place I live forces me to be the person I have been in the past. The person everyone here thinks I am. The person I hate. I feel like if I could just escape and start fresh everything would be OK again. But it isn’t about running away and being happy, it is about being happy with me, so I don’t have to run away. And that concept has been the most difficult to grasp. Coming to terms with this, I understand that I need to make a moral inventory. Figure out why I feel the way I do. So… thinking out loud… here are the reasons why I don’t love myself:
1. Mistakes I’ve made in my past haunt me
These mistakes, are things like:
- Moving out when I turned 16
- In high school, thinking ‘smart’ wasn’t cool, and letting my grades reflect this
- Thus only being good enough to get into the local college, not a university
- Dropping out of college, and not putting education first
- Staying sucked into emotionally abusive relationships
- Sleeping with the wrong people
- Sleeping with too many people
- Not sleeping with enough people to get any good experience
2. My body image is less than OK
Yes many girls think they’re fat and they’re not. But this is not my case. I wish I could go back to the days when I thought I was fat and tell myself to keep my active routine, and avoid what I will become. Today I feel like walking lard. I feel like people look at me and see walking lard. I look in the mirror and I disgust myself… but just not enough to change it because honestly, I’m lazy. It’s like avoiding acknowledging it is OK and means I don’t have to change, and being miserable is normal. Oh, but it isn’t. Society is just so sugar coated these days. It isn’t ok to be unhealthy. I need to stop telling myself I’m acceptable, and let my ego get bruised.
3. My laziness, lack of energy, and lack of motivation are choices
I am capable. I just make the wrong choices. I know they’re the wrong choices, but I make them anyways. Habitually. Because, hey, it’s normal. That again doesn’t make normal OK. I subconsciously go through my day doing the same menial tasks, hoping for a different outcome. Hoping for happiness. Knowing all too well that if I don’t make the changes, I can expect nothing in return.
4. Finally, my circle of support, is non existent
By my choice. I’ve burnt bridges, on purpose. I used to have a ‘best-friend’ who was a habitual liar. She has had cancer (then forgot about it), a serious drug addiction (but gets mixed up about which drug she was addicted to), an alcoholic mother (who doesn’t keep alcohol in the house–still a possibility I guess), a cousin who sexually abused her (who doesn’t exist), a mental disorder, anxiety, PTSD (from an event she’s never spoken about), and her one uncle passed away, twice. In reality, none of this is real, but it is real to her. Those types of bridges, I’m not so sad are gone. Then there is family, to which some of them I have disowned. The aunt who makes every holiday a disaster, because she is unwilling to accommodate spending a holiday on a day other than the actual designated date. What? Yeah, those types of people exist. Or the grandmother who says disgustedly, “I can’t believe you share my blood,” when I left my mother in recovery after VERY minor surgery, to support a friend who lost a grandparent… again, what? Yeah… I have a high respect for common sense, and being treated in a way that reciprocates how I’ve treated others. Because the world doesn’t share my views, I’m left with minimal people I trust and accept as my chosen family. And living in a city with everyone who knows me to be something I’m not… well… It’s hard to get out of that shell. And I hate myself for being someone I wasn’t for so many years, just trying to ‘fit in’. I’ve accepted myself for who I am too late, and the repercussions of that is still hating myself.
Does your life sound similar? Let me know if the comments. Air your dirty laundry.