#Self-Hate

[crmsnmth]

Self-Loathing Anthems

I have this feeling that if I met me I wouldn't like me I think I'm everything I hate A person who I'd fight in a dark alley

Tell me that change is good for a person But something's wrong with me and the only that changes is the amount of pills I swallow at the end of the day Doc says we should be good and adds another 200 mg's for good measure

I leave behind me a trial of sarcastic depression I make jokes to avoid the realization that I'm so close to a full mental breakdown that I should have a klaxon alarm and a flashing red light atop my head I am the nuclear power plant critical mass critical failure The events led to catastrophic tragedies

I would take pity on myself If I wasn't already pretty pathetic I don't want your advice You don't think that I've tried? Do you really think I enjoy being the misery kid? The misery poet Don't feel bad for me most of this was my fault because I don't know how to act and what the proper actions are

I should have left the city the night she said goodbye.

I can't stand to see myself in the mirror So I can promise I'd hate this face in person Listen to his arrogance The whole fucking world's a hypocrite And I claim I'm not solidifying that I am without even know it

I'm not anything I make myself out to be. I just know how to hide myself deep inside me Let it manifest as a tumor Ironic way for me to go

[lolannalisa]

Endless cycle of self-hate

[thekidyouforgot]

And so his whole life was an example that love of one's neighbour is not possible without love of oneself, and that self-hate is really the same thing as sheer egoism, and in the long run breeds the same cruel isolation and despair.

Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf

[kadunud]

[whatisthisblogevenabout]

[crmsnmth]

Her Fifteen Minutes

The hunger becomes insatiable and the driving force behind everything I do based out of spite I'm finally alive

There's an edge that slips easily opening skin and paper alike in the form of an ornamental letter opener I carve your name into the paper my own blood as the ink

I told you not to come near me Why couldn't you just have listened for once?

I trace new scars with old hands bruised and swollen knuckle glance She says I'm too angry But she's the one with a rising voice and I'm just sleeping in the armchairs at the hospital waiting room

It took them fifteen stitches to stop the wound from getting any worse And I'll be itching it at the end of the day because I don't have time

I have to cross a busy interstate by foot at night wearing all black It's only going to hurt for a second

I'm most alive when I'm cheating death He'll get his turn eventually Maybe she'll help things move along Queen Bee buzz

She gives me a look and I give her the finger How the hell can we claim we ever loved each other? We can't even love ourselves anymore

So ashamed, but I'll never let her know I'll never let her see my messages everything is there I've hid nothing.

[wisdomfish]

In my mind, to repent of sin was to hate yourself

In my mind, if I beat myself up hard enough for my sins and the ways I had fallen short, it would keep me from making that same mistake again. If I berated myself well-enough, I wouldn’t even dare look at the temptation. Not only that, but I also believed that self-hate showed God the depth of my repentance. If I lashed out against myself and saw myself as no better than the worst vermin that crawls across the ground, perhaps he’d accept my apologies in seeing how earnest they truly were.

Do you see the legalism growing in those thoughts? I didn’t notice the legalism taking root, until I sat down to truly reflect on my practices of self-hate. If you’re like me, and self-hate is the language of your inner life, perhaps you have some hidden legalism within your own heart too...

This legalism began with an incorrect understanding of repentance. In my mind, to repent of sin was to hate yourself. As I recognized the guilt of my sin, I had to punish myself with hateful words. You’re useless; stupid; the worst mother / wife / friend / daughter in the world—you never get anything right!

However, this didn’t lead to holiness because it wasn’t true repentance. To repent is to turn from sin to godliness; we recognize the wrongness and horrors of our actions and turn towards what is right and good.

~  Lara d’Entremont

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Artist: Graham Dean

* * * *

“Pride and self-hate belong inseparably together; they are two expressions of one process.”

“The central inner conflict is one between the constructive forces of the real self and the obstructive forces of the pride system, between healthy growth and the drive to prove in actuality the perfection of the idealized self.”

― Karen Horney, Neurosis and Human Growth: The Struggle Towards Self-Realization

[Centre of Applied Jungian Studies]

[nic-ole99]

A new blog to help me recover this time. Life is overwhelmingly unbearable.

[aronlewes]

I have body dysmorphia. There, I finally said it. It’s taken me awhile to get brave enough to admit that to myself, let alone publicly, but there it is.

About a week ago, I filmed a video of myself that I felt fairly confident in, I uploaded it to youtube... then deleted it 2 hours later. It reignited that self-effacing voice that’s been there nearly all my life, blowing up my flaws until I’m self-hating and broken again. I am intimately acquainted with that voice. “You look fat, you look foolish, your nose is huge, you need makeup, you’ve got a wonky eye, a double chin, etc etc.” It’s like a massive trauma monster that rears its head whenever I start to feel a bit of confidence.

My books have featured characters like this quite often, to the point that reviewers have asked, “wtf is with the negative self-talk?!?” Body dysmorphia is LITERALLY the subject in Earth Angel, where Kate is a sufferer: https://www.amazon.com/School-Spirits-Earth-Angel-Spirit-ebook/dp/B08W229ZJM/

The other day, on a whim, I used an app called “Unbored” and basically deepfaked myself into Titanic. (see video above) The result was... interesting. I mean, she looked like me a lot... but I didn’t hate her. She was kinda cute, actually. Certainly not “ugly.” I showed it to my sister, and she casually said, “I didn’t realize you were in Titanic.” She also didn’t realize I’d been rattled to the core.

It was a smack to the ego, in a good way. I was reminded of the first girl in this video, who calls herself “ugly” and broke my damn heart: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izz2Flzv-kA

I mean, she obviously has gorgeous features to begin with! Looking at these filters feels like the reverse of looking at pics of “celebrities” without makeup.

More and more, I’m realizing that Hollywood, the movies and the magazines, has always been a filter... it’s smoke and mirrors, constantly presenting us with an ideal we cannot hope to reach. It’s the perfect illusion, tricking you into believing you’re not fine as you are. 

Now, I’m not blaming Hollywood for turning me into what I am. It was a lot of factors that came together and basically isolated me from my world, and from myself.

But I realized it’s past time to free myself from the trauma monster, and to love me as I am.

[teaboot]

Yeah Mr. Darcy’s proposal was a complete turd and a half but you gotta understand. You got your life together. A good career, stable income, retirement plan, all that shit together. And you meet this girl. And she’s everything. Clever, outspoken, funny, calls you on your bullshit. Grade A cutie, right? And she doesn’t go out of her way to spend time with you but she’s nice, and sometimes you catch her looking your way in a way that makes you think you might have a shot.

But her family. Holy shit.

First off, it’s p much ALL women, and mostly UNMARRIED women, which at this time means of something happens to her dad then you’re financially responsible for like. Four grown ass adults, potentially forever

Because mom in law is DEFINITELY gonna need someone to take care of her when dad in law kicks it, and they have like. NO money. So already you’re accepting that if all goes well, you’re gonna be one random old bag’s retirement home. That’s expensive and exhausting, yeah? Imagine asking someone on a first date knowing that if they say yes and things go good her high-strung chihuahua mother is gonna move in with you. IMAGINE.

And girly’s other sisters. Well, one is a sweetheart, yeah, so she probably won’t be an issue, but that still leaves three more, and two of those ones are INSUFFERABLE. Never went to school, dumb as rocks, spend cash like it’s toilet paper

And while one of the two is young still and might grow out of it the OTHER one is actively torpedo’ing her entire family’s reputation by wandering off with random dudes and chasing ass. She’s never gonna work, she can’t build connections, she’s a fucking sinkhole, and she’s being led on by the same goddamn con man ass leeching tit who’s been bleeding you dry while telling anyone who’ll listen that your family is full of ratty thieving bastards.

And if he dumps her after a week- WHICH YOU KNOW HIS BITCH ASS IS GONNA- you’ve got a SECOND UNMARRIABLE GROWN ASS ADULT TO PROVIDE FOR. And you KNOW she’s gonna be a tantrum-throwing little shit about it, and it’s not like you can lock her in the basement or something, you’re gonna have to bring her fucking. Everywhere. And give her an allowance and shit while she contributes zero, because again, she NEVER GOT EDUCATED AND HAS NO MARKETABLE SKILLS. She’s not even good to TALK to. FUCK

And you’re looking at this girl’s father like “please for the love of fuck get your spawn under control, marry them off, get them working on their résumé, learning to sew or be nursemaids or manage staff or SOMETHING, yall got no money and one foot in the grave” and that old man just laughs like “haha yeah, what can you do. lol”

So you’re looking to the mom and finally it’s making sense how she got that twitch in her eye and as MUCH as she is you’re starting to realize she’s the SMART one, desperately throwing her armloads of girls at random men like they’re a bunch of fucking lifeboats bobbing around a sinking ship, like yes Jesus Christ sweetly that life boat IS old and ugly and kind of boring but for FUCKS SAKE PICK ONE

And you look back at this girl who is ALSO REFUSING THE LIFE BOATS BY THE WAY and god damn it she’s still the most radiant thing you’ve ever seen so fine, fuck it, Christ alive, you’ll do it. You’ll shoot your shot. She’s everything you’ve ever wanted in anybody abut it’s not even just about that anymore, it’s about being her best fucking shot at a future, and even if she doesn’t like you all that much she’s still gonna say yes and that might break your heart a bit knowing it’s about the money but who knows, maybe it will at least be civil, or companionable, and even if she doesn’t LOVE you at least you’ll know she’s well and cared for

And so you’ll do it. You’ll take on the neurotic stress mess mother in law, the absent father, the broke ass wingnut no brain no money no future airhead sisters, the bad mannered relatives and the embarrassing behaviour and the impending future of sharing your entire shit with a clown parade of freeloaders, you’ll risk it all and accept the absolute certainty of financial ruin and emotional exhaustion for the rest of your whole ass life and you’ll make your own family deal with it too, you’ll do it, you’ll fucking DO IT, you stupid lovesick motherfucker

And so you go to this chick like “look. Your whole family’s a shitshow. You’ve got fucking nothing and you’re gonna die on the street. But for some reason- and I don’t get it either- I’ve fallen in love with you, and I wish I didn’t, but I did, so I’m telling you that whether you like me or not, I’ll give you everything. I’ll give you everything even if it’s the dumbest shit I ever done. Fuck my stupid Baka ass, I’ll marry you.”

And she looks at you- having heard or considered absolutely none of your months-long internal debate and monologue- and goes “The fuck did you just say about my family, you son of a bitch?”

And the shock of that is enough to jolt you back into a reality where you are able to actually hear and process what just came out of your damn mouth And yeah

Yeah, I think I kinda get it

[batmanbeyondrocks]

Denise Chamberlain

Credit: Michelle Dawah@melanin_blog and Inside Edition@InsideEdition

[wisdomfish]

Rather than toiling in the darkness of self-hate, I need to repent, turn toward Christ’s light, and remember who he declares me to be: Forgiven, beloved, his.

Lara d’Entremont

[t0rschlusspan1k]

I shouldn't be here. I scare people. I need to go home and c*t and thr*w up.

[collymore]

Running for the USA Presidency in four years’ time no doubt, Ronnie Gladden!

By Stanley Collymore

I was born Black and British; but when I was literally growing up as a Bajan child in Barbados, my Mama: that is my affectionate name, for my maternal grandmother who lovingly and very devotedly raised me, because both my parents were decidedly very busy pursuing their own respective careers, and evidently for whom I instinctively had the same love and devotion, as well as the firm enduring commitment that she simply prodigiously showered on me and very unquestionably as a consequence we were both mutually and distinctly effusively as well as simply rather clearly thoroughly devoted to each other - God Almighty, forever rewardingly and equally too enduringly lovingly bless her departed Soul - told me, and likewise routinely encouraged me in that thought, that I could objectively and very logically so aspire to anything constructively that I wanted to be if I duly worked very hard enough - meaning career wise, and also applied myself to that task assiduously! Fortunately for Mama and me I did both fully and very sensibly understand what she meant! And, therefore, undoubtedly by accordingly and also unquestionably doing what Mama had actually cleverly, intelligently and logically suggested, as was her wont to quite instinctively, and   both superbly and very successfully do I likewise, for both our sakes, earnestly aspired to achieve as she so stalwartly supported and simply lovingly, actually distinctly impressively implemented in me the will and determination actually required to quite successfully achieve the career: as an Academic, that from my boyhood, I'd always wanted to be!

(C) Stanley V. Collymore 3 November 2024.

Author's Remarks: Racially as an Afro-Caribbean male, never mind what nationality I have, it's distinctly perplexing to see someone who is evidently discernibly Black physiologically, asininely and also most ludicrously passing himself off as a woman, when clearly he is not; but actually absurdly too as a white Caucasian person also. How more brainwashed and self-loathing can one actually get?

Every Afro-Caribbean born in the West Indies or elsewhere, automatically has the white male Y chromosome in our genetic system, simply because of the systematic and legalized rape of our women and girls not only specifically during Slavery but also the colonial period as well, during which our ancestral females were literally at the mercy of white sexual predators. And accounts for the variation in skin tone of African Caribbeans generally; a state of affairs that's distinctly from the skin tone of most Africans that's much darker in complexion than ours.

Facts that we recognize fully, but frankly and quite honestly, in spite of this, I can't imagine in the very least really, any unquestionably, truly self-respecting Afro-Caribbean, and I'm absolutely sure no Bajan - as we Barbadians affectionately call ourselves - no matter how light skinned their pigmentation is, stupidly designating themselves as a white Caucasian.

I regard myself as Black; my ex-wife of Irish and English extraction is white Caucasian; our legitimate and biological son and the former, quite notably, Nottingham Forest, Liverpool and England footballer with the same name as myself, which I appended to him at his birth, is bi-racial and discernibly not white Caucasian. However, his ex-wife similarly is white Caucasian and you don't need a Mensa IQ to work out that Stanley's children will have less melanin in their own genetic make-up, which they undoubtedly do, and are per se white Caucasian. No problem actually for either of the families involved. Get where I'm quite obviously actually coming from?

But it does really piss me off when distinctly and rather discernibly Black folk are so effectively brainwashed into thinking that they're quite really inferior to whites, that they have to, in effect, ape those they perceive as superior to themselves and categorically so in physically racial terms; like quite obviously bleaching their skin for instance, or rather secretively crossing the colour line and even marrying whites, hoping to breed out their blackness or else petrified into not having kids, less in doing so, the real pigmentation of an actual birth child gives the game away!  How actually pathetic!

And to have this nonsense still being rather asininely perpetrated in the 21st Century as both Charles Windsor and Kate Middleton, angst filled with worry about what Meghan and Harry's biological offspring would actually look like, really shows how obviously pathetic these sorts of infantile morons truly are!

British born but loyally and q6 gratefully Bajan culturally brought up and educated, I'm quite pleased that Bajans generally are raised to have respect for themselves and to be quite confident in themselves. Had I been raised in England, rather than Barbados, the ethos of my Bajan culture would most likely have in actuality truly helped me to also attain, what I have in effect achieved; but observing at very close quarters the sick and egregiously conducted prejudices across the UK that endeavour in reality to vilely segregate and marginalize those considered as "inferior" would have meant being a great deal harder assuredly. So here's to Barbados and it's very mentally liberated Bajans!  

And as for this distinctively blithering idiot Dr. Ronnie Gladden - perhaps he's trying to be another moron like J. Edgar Hoover: the nigger that passed himself off as white, threatened his Black relatives most unscrupulously not ever to reveal his real origins, and as the quite odiously sexual Queer that he was ran the American FBI like a gangster cartel - Ronnie Gladden plainly has deep psychological problems other than his narcissistic attention seeking!

Dear America, the spiritual home of the barking mad; and where they rather unquestionably lead, the obsequious UK surely follows!

This poem is significantly written, in grateful and eternal appreciation, to my late Mama who taught and rather firmly inspired me to be what I am! A discernibly proud and also committedly constructive, Black human being! And for which I make no apologies whatsoever to anyone!