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I suppose at some point in my life I felt loved. I must have, for I long for the feeling. I need to be loved.
Lately though, I've found myself in a spiral downwards. I hate myself, and so I do things I probably wouldn't do if I thought about them beforehand, and then I hate myself more for having done them. I don't think I'm an evil person. Nor do I think I try to hurt anyone. In fact, I find I love others so much it hurts, and I want the very best for them. Sometimes things just happen, though, and then I hate myself more.
I've tried to tell myself I'm ok; I'm loveable. That's what they say to do in the self help books. If you tell yourself something often enough, you'll begin to believe it. And eventually you will become what you tell yourself you are. The self help books are wrong. I tell myself that, and then I do something stupid that proves myself wrong.
Sometimes even my friends will tell me I'm ok, and that I'm a beautiful person, and very much loveable. They have blinders, and no one I would be around regularly would be the kind of person who would tell me the truth. The truth is I lie to myself, I lie to others, and no way am I nearly good enough to deserve any love at all. In fact, I suppose I deserve to be in hell, except that really scares me.
I constantly censor things I say to others, for fear they will think worse of me. No one would like me at all if they knew the things I've been up to. For instance, I love this guy. I think I love him, anyway, because once in a while he makes me feel good, and can make me forget how terrible I am. Every relationship has problems. I can't help but feel that if I tried harder, if I were available more, if I were prettier, if there weren't something seriously wrong with me, he wouldn't be moving out next week. My friends have pointed out that he's not right for me, that I bend over backwards for him. I rush home to cook him dinner and most of the time he doesn't show up. He doesn't come home at night. There have been rumors that he has been seeing someone else in the evening, but he told me he wasn't. And he wouldn't lie to me, and now I've gone and doubted his loyalty and have pushed him away from me. I don't want to be alone. Sure he's got his faults. Everyone has faults, especially me, and if I expect someone to put up with my faults, I better put up with his, right?
So everyone tells me he's wrong for me, and now that he's moving out, I hear a chorus of "I told you so's". And once again, despite the fact that you tell me I'm a good person, you have just reasserted the fact that I am not a good person. In fact my judgement in men sucks. And I don't know enough to get out of it beforehand. And I chose the wrong person to begin with. And if I had an ounce of good sense I would have known this long ago. So even you have told me how horrible I am. Yes, you, who I know are only concerned for my well-being and only want me to be happy. You have added a nail into my self-hatred.
And now I'm alone again. I'm so scared of being alone. It is in the silence, that I look at what I am and hate myself the most. Even with the radio blaring and me trying to sing at the top of my lungs, the silence still feeds in on me and my heart aches. I still have hopes that this guy and I will work out because I'd love to prove you all wrong. I am not a failure.
But even as I say that, it's a lie. My one friend told me to go see someone else and I accepted a date with yet a third guy. What would they all think if they knew about each other? How can I do this? If I were really ok, I wouldn't do this, would I? I'm a horrible, hateful person. I tell myself that I am only going to see the other two as friends, just to get out some. The truth is the second kissed me and while the sparks weren't there, I liked it. And he calls all the time and he wants a relationship, probably even thinks we already have one. I've conveniently left out the fact that my previous boyfriend is still living with me, that I've even got one, that I hope beyond hope that things will still work out. Even to my close friends, I've said that my current boyfriend is living upstairs and that he is just a roommate. Lies and omissions. I've left out half of who I am.
It's none of anyone's business, after all, what I do with my life. And I'm tired of their scrutiny. I'm tired of that niggling thought in the back of my head that says I'm a monster, that I have done what everyone thinks is so terrible. I hate myself for telling you lies, but I can not stand up to your judgement. As I said before, all really I want is to be loved, and if you judge me, you do not love me. So if I don't tell you anything that would cause you to judge me, I can at least think that you love me. Even if I know you can not possibly love me because you do not know who I really am.
If I thought that you loved me, if I really believed that, I wouldn't feel like I need to hide things from you. I don't want your pity (am I that pitiful?). I don't want your advice (am I so stupid that I could not think it up on my own?). I don't want your compassion (I am not worthy of compassion, for I have chosen my own actions). And above all, I don't want your judgement (for it can not be in my favor and I hate myself enough already without having my worst fears confirmed).
I know that if I get my work project done, I'll be happy with myself for having done it. But I can not do it, for fear I will fail. And then I hate myself for not doing it. And I hate myself for even feeling like I have to talk myself into doing it. And then I hate myself too much to concentrate on doing it. And I know if I get it done, I will be happy, but I am failing. If I don't start, I'll have an excuse for failure (I could have done it, I just chose not to). And then I hate myself for taking the wimpy way out.
So we are back to the fact that I hate myself, and inside, deep inside, where only I can see, I know that I am not a bad person; I have good intentions, but I just can't seem to control some of the things that happen. How did I get myself into such a mess? How can I get myself out of such a mess? Please, tell me that you love me. That nothing I can say or do or think would ever make you hate me. And forgive me for the lies, the omissions, the things I should have said, but didn't. I didn't mean it. It just happened, because I really don't want you to back away from me in horror, because if I look at myself in the mirror...
I back away in horror.