Have you ever wanted to say something, and you spend a long time lost inside your head conjuring up the perfect structure, finding the right mix of words and stringing together a sentence that you know will take courage to share out loud. And yet, when it comes to saying it, you completely fumble over your words and you know it’s not making sense?
That has been me for the longest time with this post. I know what I want to say but I don’t know how to say it. So maybe I should just put it out there as bluntly as possible;
I hate myself.
I am sorry if that was abrupt, I’d like to apologise if that was a little to the point for you, but I have no other way of saying it. You see, I don’t hate myself in a ‘I am saying this so you will validate me’ sort of way, lord knows I have lived my life independently enough to know that I don’t need validation from others when it comes to myself. I just, I don’t know how to explain it.
When I am getting ready in the morning, I will have my shower and usually put on a really good performance of Doesn’t Matter by Christine & the Queens. I will go through my usual routine of doing my hair, moisturising myself and then finding (what I think) is a really on trend outfit to wear for the day. I will look in the mirror and I will validate myself. I will tell myself that I look good and I will smile because I believe in myself.
And then I leave the house.
I will be staring out of the window on the train and my eyes will do that weird thing where they aren’t sure what to focus on, and for a split second I will catch myself in the reflection and I will see how ugly I am. I will see the way my beard forms around my double chin and my eyes have huge bags hanging under them. I will shake it off and carry on my journey.
I will be at an event, such as the adoption conference I attended a few weeks back. I will get myself ready and I will dress smartly, making sure I look my best so that my confidence will aide in my performance on stage. I will, in my opinion, do a good job of getting myself visually ready for such events, however the photos will point out each of my thousands of flaws.
This all stems down to not feeling good enough, and I am aware of that. It’s something that I’ve tried to embrace and change through my eighteen months in therapy and yet – it’s the one thing that I am struggling to overcome. I just don’t ever see a time where I see myself as beautiful, or good looking or even acceptable. The standard I hold of myself in my head is high in every aspect of my life. I focus so much on my many jobs and my education that sometimes I forget to eat. I stress myself out from my many jobs and education to the point where all I do is eat. I never want to stop because in my eyes, stopping is failure. And so, I will work myself to the bone, all whilst hating everything that I am on the outside.
Since moving home last year, I have lost weight. At one point, I had lost just over two stone – and then I swiftly began to pile it back on again this September. I went from feeling confident about who I was on the outside to having absolutely no idea who is looking back at me in the mirror.
I think if you suffer with mental health, you are certain to have your insecurities cross over and meet. Five years ago, I was ashamed of my work ethic, I was lazy and I was the least proactive person you could meet. I barely scarped through my undergrad and I was always late for my part time job. I was a lot bigger then, and yet – a lot more confident in my appearance. I rocked the plus sized boy look and I rocked it well. Fast forward five years and here I am, my insecurities swapping places. I now work to the bone on a hundred different projects whilst in full time education and full time employment. Yet I cannot help but walk through the corridors at university and compare myself to everyone – more, compare how ugly I am to every person that walks by.
It’s almost like I’m two people. On my own in front of a mirror, I generally believe in myself. I am not saying I am beautiful, but I certainly don’t see myself as ugly. Drop me in a room full of fellow students or pop me behind the desk at work and I cannot help but feel hideous, like everyone around me is whispering about how ugly I am.
Things are starting to slip back to last summer, where I began to truly lose myself in a deep bout of mental health. I have felt this a few times over the last twelve months and usually a quick FaceTime or session with Ben, my therapist soothes me and puts me at ease with my progress. However over the last few weeks I have been having more PTSD panic attacks and I have felt myself getting defensive far too easily, and they are usually the warning signs of whats to come.
I don’t know why I wanted to write this, why I felt the need to tell you all that I absolutely hate myself, but I guess oversharing is the only thing I am good at. Hopefully someone, somewhere out there in the internet will relate and tell me that I am not alone in being caught up in a conflicting battle of self-hate.
If you didn’t know, I have been nominated for a UK Blog Award 2019 in the mental health category. It would mean the absolute world to me if you could pop me a vote (it only takes 10 seconds). Thank you for your continued support on this wonderful journey x.
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