I hate myself

[rosedahlia31]

Just when I thought things were picking up they have gone straight to hell again. I can't stand the thoughts in my head, I can't stop eating. I hate everything about myself. I can't concentrate on anything. Not even Paul's podcasts make me feel better. I use to think there was a silver lining, that things would pick up but now I'm not believing it anymore. I'm so depressed, so angry. I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror. I hate what I have become. I punish myself by eating until my stomach feels like it's going to explode then I fucking hate myself for getting fat. Or I cut, burn or hit myself. I deserve to be punished. I'm weak, I'm cruel. I yelled at my dog for acting erratic even though he has diabetes and is going blind. I'm a terrible person. What is wrong with me? I feel stupid for writing all this. It's so erratic it doesn't even make sense to me. My mind is spinning out of control. I need help but I'm too afraid to be 100% honest. I'm afraid to change. I just wish someone or something would kill me. I don't want to kill myself, but I guess my eating disorder is a slow form of suicide. I hope it kills me. I don't want to be the last in my family to die. I don't want to get old, weak and fat. But I know it will happen with my luck. I'll live to be 100 and my life will be fucking miserable. I need to stop writing. It's meaningless. It's not helping. I feel sorry for whomever reads this. It's not worth it, I'm not worth it. I'm a stupid, selfish bitch.

[ColemanSilk]

I hate myself too. I don't see any light at the end of the tunnel either.

I don't think the point of this community, or Paul's podcasts, is necessarily to make anyone feel "better." If we could do that on our own we wouldn't be here.

Paul seems to have found solace through medication, therapy, support groups, etc. I have not, and it sounds like you haven't either. But what Paul's podcasts have taught me is that line on top of the page...I am not alone.

I am not alone, you are not alone, none of us are. I don't know if that's worth getting up the next morning but it gives me comfort. I hope you find the strength to keep moving.

[fifthsonata]

Just when I thought things were picking up they have gone straight to hell again...I can't stand the thoughts in my head....I hate what I have become. I punish myself.... I deserve to be punished. I'm weak, I'm cruel.... I'm a terrible person. What is wrong with me? It's so erratic it doesn't even make sense to me. My mind is spinning out of control. I need help but I'm too afraid to be 100% honest. I'm afraid to change. I just wish someone or something would kill me. I don't want to kill myself, but I guess my eating disorder is a slow form of suicide. I hope it kills me. It's meaningless. It's not helping.... I'm not worth it. I'm a stupid, selfish bitch.

I've highlighted some particularly poignant sentences here. Why? Because I see myself in them. I think, however, there is one drastic difference - I know there's some part of me that exists outside of this self-hatred and illness.

Can you say the same for you, too?

Rose, what have you done with your life? I mean that in all neutrality. I want you to think. What have you done that you can be proud of, and what have you done that you enjoy? What have you done, in your past, before the self-hatred was all-consuming, that you loved so much you lost yourself in? That time was lost?


If you say nothing, you're lying to me. I don't care if it was when you were 3 and you were drawing with mommy's lipstick all over the walls, or if it was dress-up with your friends....think of something.

What have you done that felt like YOURS? And what do I mean by that statement?

Have you done anything, even if it's a menial hobby, that felt like your own gift? Only something you can offer to people? For example, I teach music. Teaching is a fairly common profession, but it takes someone with unique skill and knowledge to be able to teach well. I'm a weirdo and I capitalize on that in my classroom - standing on desks or beginning my class while climbing the filing cabinets. Maybe do a Britney Spears impersonation about how chest singing might damage your vocal cords.

That sort of thing.


Everyone has that one thing that they can own.


Are you afraid to get help because you're afraid of who you are without this depression and self-hatred? Can you think of that one thing that is truly yours, or has it been obscured over the years? Lost to you? Getting help means losing that sick identity...and as weird as it sounds, that self-hatred and depression feels like home. It's comforting. You can blame your failings and self-hate on SOMETHING. Something more tangible and easy to pass the blame on - you failed at this because you're ill. Without the ill label, the only thing you can blame that failure on.....is you. There's no barrier.


It is fucking hard to reach out and say that you need help, and doing the work is 10x harder. The worst part is when people know, absolutely, but the ones who love you are the ones who stick around. The ones who don't....fuck them with a pitchfork. You'd be surprised at what people will do for you if you ask. When they get to know you, it'll get to the point when you don't have to ask. They'll know. That feeling is amazing.


Having that barrier removed is like ripping off your skin and walking around, bleeding everywhere.


It's worth it, though.


As someone with an eating disorder, I can't stress enough that I know how this feels. I really, really do. Nothing is more shameful than heading to your therapists office, walking across town, still drunk because you tried to give yourself alcohol poisoning the night before, and halfway through the session realizing I was still holding my toothbrush in my head, confessing my sins to someone I barely know.

But, again, it's worth it.


You won't know, though, until you try. The cliche is true. You'll hate yourself even more, so much more until the point you seriously consider (or act) on suicide. If you've got help, though, someone will throw you a ladder out of the hole. Without help, you're at rock bottom. Alone.


Do it. Call someone.