It’s a strong word isn’t it; hate.
The synonyms of hate encompass; hostile, repelled by, recoil from, unable to stomach, loathe, detest. All very powerful, I’m sure you’d agree.
I’ve fallen out with a few people over the years, especially in recent times. It’s a lifestyle choice you see, if they no longer bring something to my life, they make me feel negative or I just don’t care for their company then the metaphorical scissors come out and that’s it. They’re cut from my life and I no longer see them.
I don’t hate them. These people I’m referring to don’t stir up hate within me. They’re not my enemies. They’re just people I used to know. It’s as simple as that.
OK, so I might dislike a couple of the people I’ve cut from my life but to me, that’s akin to disliking it when it rains and I have to go outside. Or disliking the fact my pizza turned up the other day and it hadn’t been sliced. I disliked that fact but it didn’t bother me for long. I just tore it apart like the animal I am and enjoyed it nonetheless.
Hate takes energy. It’s involved. It’s on-going. It’s always there. It can be over-whelming. It can bring with it a whole raft of other emotions such as upset, hurt, anxiety and distress.
My enemy isn’t someone I used to be friends with. Nor is it a family member. My enemy isn’t someone I work with or someone I’ve reluctantly socialised with.
My enemy is me.
I am my enemy.
I am my own worst enemy.
I’m in a bad place at the moment. It’s a place I’ve visited before.
I know this place well. I’d give it zero stars on TripAdvisor. I’d ask for my money back if I could.
It’s a vile place, full of demons and memories. When I’m visiting that place, I experience racing thoughts, my palms are drenched with sweat. Virtually nothing can remove me from that place. I’m there for the duration. I must’ve forgotten to book a return ticket.
I’ve always yo-yo’d. One day I could be fine. I could feel excited, content, happy. Ready to take on anything. Full of energy.
The next I’ll be the opposite. I’ll be feeling depressed, anxious, exhausted, fed up, bored but lazy. Void of anything positive.
Those days are shit. And today is one of those days. So was yesterday. Tomorrow might be one too. I hope not. I really hope not.
I don’t like myself very much.
I won’t let myself like myself.
I’ve never been one of those people who are good at “things”. I’ve never won anything (apart from Miss Poser 2002 – don’t ask). I struggle. I work hard because things don’t come to me easily. I’m not academic nor am I particularly intelligent. I don’t look good without fake tan and my hair perfectly straightened. Sometimes, I need to whack a filter or 2 on just to look half decent.
There are days I make peace with this. It doesn’t bother me. “I am what I am” I tell myself. We all have our crosses to bear. We all have our insecurities and I mustn’t let mine overwhelm me.
But those days I’m visiting “that place”, I hate myself more than I think it’s possible to hate anyone or anything.
I’m a disappointment.
I’m a terrible person.
These are the recurrent thoughts I’ve had for a while now. On and off perhaps, but they’re there and they’re persistent.
I’m finding my roles hard at the moment. I’m finding being a Mum difficult.
My son is the love of my life. He’s such a good little boy. However, it’s the emotional side of being a Mum I struggle with. The guilt. God, that guilt weighs heavy on my chest like a 1000kg weight. The guilt, it never ends.
I’m finding work difficult. I feel like I make no progress. My job is bigger than me.
These are the 2 main roles in my life. Employee and Mother.
And they don’t complement each other well. When one is going OK, the other is affected. I’m finding it hard to negotiate a balance. The plates I’m spinning are precariously close to smashing all around me. I can almost see them smashing now, into smithereens that will take forever to put back together.
I might take forever to be put back together.