The Journey to Self Love
It’s a well known adage that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. So what is the road to self love paved with?Aside from misery, depression and regret. I’m on a mission to find out. A journey of self-discovery. How deep into my psyche must I dive to find out exactly why I hate myself so much? How many memories do I need to replay for me to not believe I am the tragedy of my own life?
When it comes down to brass tacks, I don’t mean self love in the hippie sort of LSD way, rather I mean it as a sense of just actually loving myself… As a person… To the core. Most people like who they are and most days I like myself but my life is run moreso by the negative thoughts that plague me. I’m not good enough. I rack my brain as to how I have any friends. I’m nothing but miserable most days. I have nothing but negativity to bring to the table. On top of all that, I seldom have a sunny demeanor. If ever there was a storm cloud, it is me.
Perhaps my negativity is all a front, after all it’s easier to see the dark side of things than to truly know that things are going to be okay. If you set your expectations low then you can’t possibly be disappointed. If I poo-poo something then I have an advantage. And if I hate myself maybe it won’t seem so bad if, or more likely, when people don’t like me. If I beat them to the punch line maybe it will sting less. How do you make someone who already feels like they have nothing to offer in life feel like more than a failure?
I try to be positive and try to show people I like my life since, really, it’s not all that bad. But something must show through like a crack in the glass. A scuff on a boot. A tarnish on the good silver. As much as I can put on a happy face it must be apparent I haven’t sold myself on my own feelings. Behind every self-depreciating comment truth resonates. Behind every compliment I refuse to accept is a robe of disgust for myself. It’s easier to quit than to fail, to accept rejection, disappointment and sadness before I really need to.
If I had to name three things I liked about myself I couldn’t do it. Or, if I did I would say something as a joke, deflecting the conversation. I feel like I really don’t have any redeeming qualities, or if I do and is mention them, someone will think I’m stupid for even saying it. Automatic negative thoughts. ANTs. They ruin every potential picnic there could be with doubt and depression. I cover up my feelings with jokes and comedy because, god forbid, I put my heart and true feelings on the line to be stepped on. At least if things are posed as a joke then I don’t have to worry so much.
My heart, I feel, has a lot of love in it but I really can’t even begin to love myself. For some reason I have a block. I can’t get past the wall that’s holding me back. It’s easier to be a constant victim than to have failed with dignity. Maybe people won’t like me, that’s how life goes. We all know there’s plenty of people out there I really don’t care for. Instead of accepting things and moving on I personalize everything. Any slight or any possibly negative association I take to heart and carry it with me. I can probably remember most bd things people have ever said about me, but when asked what people like about me I stammer. Lost for words. I can’t even accept a fucking compliment.