I was watching this School of Life video on 'learning to forgive ourselves' when I realized that my previous blog entry was just me drowning in self-loathing and hatred. Which made me wonder, why do I hate myself so much?
I feel like I've always hated myself. At varying degrees. For as long as I can remember.
Like back at Hutchings, my self-hatred started to seep in at my failure to connect with anyone and make friends. The frustration of not being able to move on with my life. Like there was something wrong with me. Why was it so easy for everybody else?
At NIFT, I would often feel stupid for not coming up with the most creative or deeply moving idea. Feel jealous and inferior looking at the work of some of my peers who would bring in a completely unique take on the assignment.
It inspired me to do more, do better, work harder. But it always made me feel like I was not enough. That I will never see myself as good enough.
But the one thing that I think has made me hate myself the most is the failure to move past my relationship.
The video talked about how we look at other people's success and things that seem to come to them so effortlessly, that we start feeling there must be something wrong with ourselves rather than accepting the reality of the human existence where luck, coincidence and absurdity of it all plays a huge part in deciding how our lives are going to turn out. And that we have very little to zero control over it.
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I'm listening to Beethoven after what feels like an entire lifetime, in the hopes that it will help me write and empty out my brain. I remember the first time I listened to all the sonatas and symphonies. It was you who introduced me to the wonders of instrumental music. And because I was so infatuated with you, I fell in love so deeply with the music as well. I think it was either the 12th std or the gap year. I don't remember very clearly because that entire time period feels like a blur – where it feels like a lot happened, but also feels like nothing really did. I was at the peak of my 'la vie en rose' but also really really stressed that I was wasting a year of my life.
I had forgotten how soothing Beethoven can be. How it can allow you to really think and focus on your thoughts. Or get lost in them. Or wipe your brain clean. I don't even remember what I came here to write. Ah yes, self-hatred.
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I don't really know why I hate myself so much. I mean, I kinda do. But I don't know how to let go of this hatred? How do I start actually forgiving myself? What does it even mean to be kind to oneself?
At times, when I tell my brain to be forgiving of myself for sleeping all day because I was too depressed to get out of bed, the other part of my brain goes into fight mode. Taunting me for being a lazy, sad piece of shit who can't get her life together.
Let's try something new. Let's try to list at least five things that make me feel like I'm proud of myself. Kinda, at least.
1. I'm proud that I finally convinced myself to take a bath today. (it's really hard sometimes)
2. I'm proud that I've gone to the office almost consistently for 2 days/week for roughly two months now.
3. I'm proud that I made at least 3 dinners at home this week (OMG, and it's only Thursday)
4. I'm proud that I finally cleaned the kitchen this week. Almost after a week? (Please do not judge a depressed person's struggles with daily life. I judge myself enough for the both of us)
5. I'm proud that I've not stayed awake all night obsessing over my past mistakes, regrets, etc.
Note to self:
Yes. These are basic accomplishments for most people. But accomplishing basic things when you've been sleeping at least 16 out of 24 hours each day of the weekend (or staying awake till 6-7am trying to gain some semblance of productivity in your life) can feel like an achievement.
The pain comes in waves, so does forgiveness I guess?
One day at a time.
P.S. Feels ironic to add 'note to self' when this entire blog is the biggest 'note to self' in itself.
P.P.S. You see how deep-rooted this hatred of myself is? I just couldn't help but self-criticize.
Until next time.
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