Scarce Amounts of Love

I spend a lot of time ragging on myself. It’s not self-loathing, but I am aware of a lot of my flaws and, I try to call myself on them. Perhaps I do this a bit more than is necessary, perhaps I don’t do it enough of the time. I don’t know. I have no life manual so I have no idea which is better. Either way, it helps me remind myself that I’m not perfect, far from it. It helps me get a little deflation when my ego’s starting to take up space. On a side-note, I find it funny that with self-esteem as wobbly as mine, I’m still capable of an ego, what with all the hits it’s taken. It’s annoying because sometimes I think I’m a fucking awesome person. And then I come crashing back down.

Anyway, with all these constant reminders of imperfection, I find there’s a gap that needs to be filled, generally with a certain amount of self-love but, if you’re a bit prone to melancholic states like me, something darker. Maybe sadness, hatred, hopelessness? Try loneliness? Flat out depression? I don’t drown in these feelings the way I used to, because I’ve let go of a lot of my insecurities, as well a lot of the people and environments that generally went along with these feelings. Also, I think I’ve just grown. So I don’t feel these things as intensely as I used to.

But I can’t really say I love myself yet. I know I’ve said that sometimes I think I’m friggin awesome, but I don’t really believe that, and even when I do, it’s usually because of something superficial that I’m praising myself for. Like, oh, I look so pretty today, or oh, I lent her money and I don’t want it back, how great of me. And besides, I always come crashing down from that.

And when I’m not drastically either loving or irritating myself, I’m neutral. And not neutral in the ‘just the right amount of self-love’ kinda way. But neutral in the sense that I just don’t think anything of myself. Because I see all these cheesy inspiring quotes everywhere saying ‘love yourself first’ and ‘you’re the best’ and I’m always asking why why why but that part’s never included in the poster. I mean, really. Why should I love myself? Because I’m God’s child? Yeah well everyone’s God’s child and not everyone’s great. So come up with something else.


Life makes me itch

Life makes me itch and squirm. It’s getting harder and harder, which is expected, but it feels as though my body isn’t growing accustomed to a higher threshold for hardship. It feels as though my body is instead rebelling, intentionally making itself weaker so I’m more sensitive than I really should be about inconsequential things. I feel things too strongly now, my mindset being that the happy things last only a minute and the bad things last forever. I’m blowing things out of proportions these days, my mum says I shouldn’t eat too much chocolate and I get resentful, thinking she’s fat-shaming me. I’m only at peace by myself. I get angry, angry, angry so often that it’s fortunate I’m usually alone. I feel broken down all the time even though nothing has happened to me and I really should be grateful for everything that I have. That’s another thing, the guilt at being constantly sad over nothing, it cloaks me, I carry it on my back everywhere I go, pissing myself off at how depressed I get in a not at all depressing situation. But I can not shake the sadness any more than I can shake the guilt.
I can not stand my family. Honestly, I’m never so angry as when I’m around them. And that’s really too bad. I have vague thoughts about how I might not like them as people if they were not my family and I wasn’t obligated to love them. The situation is no better with my ‘friends’, all of whom I feel uncomfortable and only a surface version of myself with.
I don’t know. It seems that I am either depression prone or I just need to develop a thicker skin. I’m hoping it’s the latter for obvious reasons. Hopefully this will end as one of those cheesy teen angst stories where ‘it gets better’ and I can look back on this from a better place in life.

This is pretty pathetic I know. But it is my blog.