"No matter how hard the past,
You can ALWAYS begin again."
-Buddha
From a pretty young age, I had learned to hate myself and everything about me. I exposed myself to horrible self ridicule, and allowed WAY too many people to succeed in bringing me down. I had felt I deserved nothing less than things or people whom only brought pain. I forgave too often, and too easily, but never have I forgotten. I allowed people to walk over me, to lie to me, to use me, and in some cases, even to abuse me- myself included.Why expect others to respect and like me if I couldn't even do that for myself? I didn't seeing anything wrong with being degraded, because in my eyes, I felt they were just being honest. Truth hurts, right? There were times that I truly just wanted to end my life, or to just not wake up. I felt THAT alone.
At that point, I so badly wanted to be loved that I put up with just about anything and everything. I was called names, told how difficult I was, told how lucky I was to have someone to actually put up with me, told I wouldn't find anyone else, that I was a whore, that I was the reason they felt the need to lie and cheat. I felt I deserved that emotional, verbal, and physical abuse... because, that's what I was use too.
Then after that came the anxiety and panic attacks. I was terrified of everything! I was scared to lose what I thought was love because that was the love I had known most of my life. I began to truly believe everything I was being told. I LOATHED myself. I started to distance myself from family and friends, I lost my passion for things I once adored, and I became obsessed with keeping that "love" alive. I was convinced that the only thing I had going for me, was my relationship.
I lived and breathed keeping my relationship going, learning to hate myself more and more as time went on...I was an empty shell. I literally had NOTHING going for me. I had my whole life engulfed by one thing; which was one of the major things bringing me down.
I had reached a point where my panic attacks were out of control, and I wasn't eating. I began losing weight, and becoming obsessed with the results. There were days that I weighed myself at LEAST 10 times; I'd wake up- weigh myself, eat- weigh myself, use the bathroom- weigh myself, exercise- weigh myself. If I went up even a single pound, I'd beat myself up and wouldn't allow myself to eat anymore that day. Looking back, I assume this was my outlet and my punishment to myself.
I finally confided in my doctor, and got put on the medication that I still take to this day. Slowly my anger, and anxiety started to get better. I didn't have such a short fuse and I started to see more clearly. Following not too far after this was the big break up, which granted I was shattered- completely broken hearted, I somehow knew it was for the best. I learned to pick up the pieces, and for the first time in my life, I started to see good qualities within MYSELF.
I had lost weight, I was eating right, I had a job, and I finally had no more CONSTANT worrying. I learned to smile, a real smile. That's when I realized what I needed out of my life. I didn't need someone else to "love me" I needed to love, respect, and accept myself. I could FINALLY be honest with myself, and realize I wasn't as bad as I had thought.
I still struggle with my self-worth and self-image from time-to-time but, I can proudly say I haven't been back to a place THAT dark in well over a year.
