We're here, you and me, two miniscule anomalies. Created through chance and brought together by luck.
What happens when you’ve found yourself stuck in some kind of limbo of satisfaction with who you are?
I’ve repeatedly found myself torn between completely loving or hating myself. There is rarely an in-between for me. There are moments when I’m so proud of the work I’ve done, where I’ve gotten, and who I’ve become. In those moments I truly and wholeheartedly love myself… But those feelings don’t tend to last very long.
It’s like my brain flips a depression switch and I’m back to hating myself. I feel like I’m not enough, I’m not worth it, I shouldn’t be here, my existence is pointless… Blah blah blah. I’m left feeling 102% unsatisfied and disappointed in where I still am and who I think i should be. Touché to mental sabotage…
I just don’t know what to do to fix this anymore. The only thing I feel like I can do at this point is let it happen, ride it out, and hope the self-love lasts longer than the hate.
Time heals… I get that. Personal effort and growth is key… Yeah sure. But will time and effort really be able to invoke complete love for myself? Or do all of us just learn to tolerate and cope with ourselves enough to survive?
Like a loose thread on your favorite sweater you unraveled me. Nonchalantly picking, pulling, and tugging at me... Until I was left nothing but a tangled mess.
My skin is selfish, scarred, and flawed... My skin has become a facade. A facade hiding and dampening the most organic parts of me... Parts I want seen... Parts I want felt... But my punishment has been dealt. Dealt with deliberate destruction, signed by my hands for reduction. So cut it off for it's been hellish... As my skin has been so selfish.