Loathing

Have you ever loathed someone?

I have.

What if that person you loathed was yourself?

And I mean, really loathed. Like, wallow-in-self-pity-for-weeks-type-of-loathing. I’m talking wine coma every night for weeks, even months, skipping obligations, skipping the gym, skipping basic life functions. Skipping everything. 

I have done all of these things. I have really, really loathed myself.

I forgive myself for it, though. Or at least, I’m trying to. I’ve learned something recently:

Without forgiveness, we can’t receive love.

This realization made me understand that there was a reason I was increasingly harder to love as the weeks and months went on. Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand that love — real love — is unconditional. But when you haven’t forgiven yourself completely, it’s hard to give or receive any kind of love, including the love that matters most... the kind from yourself. You’re too wrapped up in the loneliness of unforgiving self-loathing. I know this because it’s what I’ve done the last five months of my life. I have completely and utterly loathed myself. I have loathed myself so deeply that I pushed those I love away from me. I have loathed myself so deeply that I have ruined relationships, and made irrational decisions. I have loathed myself so deeply that I gave time and energy away to those who did not, under any circumstance, deserve it. I have loathed myself so much that the people who love(d) me most weren’t getting the love they deserved in return. I have loathed myself so deeply that I have gone days without taking real care of myself. I have loathed myself so deeply I avoided all the things that made me happy, purely because I found comfort in the consistency of pain. I have loathed myself so deeply that I’ve sought comfort in food, alcohol, and other people. I have loathed myself into some dark places.

But, luckily, I’ve had just enough, JUST enough, love in me to bring me out of this perpetual state of loathing. And that’s where I am today. 

Because here’s the thing about liking yourself — not loving, just simply LIKING who you are: when you don’t like yourself, even (and especially) when you don’t realize it, you will inevitably be presented with a divine assignment. You’ll first be taken, and placed alone. By yourself. Complete isolation. Maybe this is for five minutes. Maybe this is for five years. Once alone, you’ll experience total upheaval. And I mean total. This is not by accident. But then again, I’m not sure anything in this life IS by accident.

This upheaval is a test. How well do you stand when you’re on your own? Do you like yourself enough to get back up? Do you like yourself enough to keep fighting, even when the odds are stacked frighteningly high against you? Do you like yourself enough to be your own best friend, even when shit hits the fan? Do you avoid the task of truly loving who you are with things like external validation, booze, or poor coping mechanisms? Can you rely on your strength, and yours alone, to get through this? Do you love yourself enough for that? Do you just merely LIKE yourself enough for that?

A brutally honest inventory has to be taken when embarking on the journey of liking who you are. That inventory is terrifying at best. That inventory tells you things about yourself you’d probably rather avoid... the answers to questions about yourself that you’re probably uninterested in answering with honesty. Were you manipulative? Did you make others feel small because you did, too? Did misery love company? That inventory is sobering, and that inventory will save your life. It has saved mine. 

I spent the last few months loathing me. And finally, I am learning to love this person, whoever she is, which is something I’m in the long haul to figure out. I’m not there yet. There have been plenty-a-fuckups along the way. But I’m getting closer to where I need to be on this ever evolving journey to loving who I am. I’m sure the view from that big ol’ mountain of self-love will be mighty pretty. I’m sure I’ll leave that mountain again a few times and head back into the valley. But I think next time I’ll have even better equipment to help me along the way. And maybe instead of five months, I’ll only sit alone for five weeks. Or maybe five hours. 

I never again in this lifetime want to feel like my happiness lies in the hands of someone else’s approval. 

I am the only human who can love me right now, the way I need and the way I deserve. This journey is not easy by any stretch of the imagination; I’ve found it vastly easier to avoid the journey of self-love than I have to embark on it. But I know this is the only way.

And I know this way will be worth it.

"Fear is the relinquishment of logic, the willing relinquishing of reasonable patterns. But so, it seems, is love. Love is the relinquishment of logic, the willing relinquishing of reasonable patterns. We yield to it or we fight it, but we cannot meet it halfway. Without it, we cannot continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality."