Some days it’s hard not to hate yourself. Some days it’s hard for others not to join you. I have been called many names in my life; most of them negative. I won’t go into all the derogatory words and phrases that have assaulted my ears and heart but let’s just say; it’s not pretty. I have worked so hard to ignore, disregard and heal from the trauma those voices caused me. But through all my healing one voice has been the last to go. You guessed it; it’s mine. I don’t want to hate myself. Some people have even told me I love myself too much in the quest not to hate myself. But how can you love yourself when that voice; that very smart voice tells you that the other voices were right.
I know this is all confusing, so I will tell you a day in point. Yesterday to be exact. I ate a peanut. I don’t even like peanuts. I like cashews and walnuts but peanuts, well, I can take them or leave them but I ate a peanut and cracked my filling. This came at a bad time as I am as broke as the filling was. So I called my dentist and told him I was coming in. In the rush to get my dogs situated and handle all the people who never call who decided that day to not onlycall but not want to hang up. I was off my game. You see I have agoraphobia and it takes me hours to get ready. When I don’t have the hours and need to take the bus stuff happens. I also had another appointment that day with another doctor in the same building. I like to make appointments for the same day so I have more days to stay home. This second appointment was with my orthodontist, don’t laugh. Now it really makes no sense to get braces when you are 58 and are missing many teeth.But when you hate yourself and see your father’s crooked smile on the few glances you allow yourself with a mirror, it does make a kind of odd sense. I don’t have braces anymore but I have retainers and my appointment was to pick up the ones for the top teeth. So, I thought I would show the doctor how diligent I was by wearing the bottom and brought them in to be tightened. You guessed it again. I lost them. How could I not hate myself? I lose everything. The other day I lost two of the backup reading glasses I use when I lose my prescription ones. So yesterday I was wearing a broken pair of the ones you get at the drugstore. You guessed right again. I lost them along with the retainer. How could my mother’s tapes not come into my brain. “Marilynnnnnn, you slop- job, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t on your shoulders.” My mother has been dead since 1995 but she was right. I do lose everything. I am the bureau of lost causes. I made that up- he, he
I know what my good points are. I can speak in front of a million people without breaking a sweat. I guess I’m “bright” as my almost 90-year-old aunt says and I can dance and run fast (hey that’s an art) . I recently looked at a photo of me in camp at 12 and was surprised how pretty I was. I was always told the opposite so when I see myself literally in black and white, I am surprised and saddened that people could be so mean and so wrong.. Oh, there are other reasons I hate myself besides losing things. For example, I have freak accidents. I burn myself, I fall, I step in front of buses. It’s not intentional, believe me. I love life when I’m not hating myself.
Self-hatred is hard to cure. I know there are reasons I have this flaw and I have tried many so-called proven methods to fix this. I have meditated, and been psychoanalyzed ad nauseam but the self-hatred always returns. It doesn’t help when the exact things I hate myself about are true. I do always lose things. I’ve always had freak accidents and was told frequently that I was not pretty enough or skinny enough or anything enough. Intellectually I know I shouldn’t let all these things worry me. After all, I have an anxiety disorder. I even wrote a book about it. It was called as this blog is ‘From Agoraphobia to Zen.” Maybe my next book should be “Zen and then”…..,
I have a lot to be grateful for. I have a great boyfriend who “worries himself sick about me.” Yesterday, he said I shouldn’t be allowed to wander off by myself as bad things tend to happen.” I know that’s not good advice. I like to wander and staying home too much just aggravates my agoraphobia. However, when the self-hatred strikes, I do strange things, like eat pie, a lot of pie. alright my boyfriends pie and then he says. “Thanks a lot. A woman your age should have self-control.” grr my age. Is he giving me another reason to hate myself? I know I shouldn’t have eaten his pie. I warned him but he was too busy on his electronic devices to hear me and he is so kind most of the time except when I lose stuff, fall down,and eat his pie.
He apologized. He really is a good guy. He was just hungry and tired of picking me up from the dentist and the floor. I was just soothing myself with sugar. I also soothe myself by reading and writing snarky posts. My hero, Dorothy Parker was famous for saying . “What fresh hell is this“? whenever her doorbell rang I love that. However she had a drinking problem and I don’t want to go there. I sometimes just need sugar. I feel better now. Maybe I am not the bureau of lost causes. Maybe I am the hero of the lost and hated. I like that.