I've recently realised that I hate myself. For what reason I don't know.
The thought first came up to my mind when I found out how I hate reading my posts on this blog! The moment I finish writing I just click "publish" and I never want to read it, ever again. Even if I know it was an achievement.
And the mirror. The moment I lay my eyes on the mirror I don't feel very excited to meet myself. It's that world in which I find my own reflections, with all its imperfections and dirt, no disguise no more! "But GOD I wanna let it go!" I hate looking at that wide forhead, this lousy hair, those yellowish eyes and soar eyelids. How have I come to look at myself as such! This pale skin, those black pores. Me. I hate me.
A dear friend once told me that what i think of myself, the others will think of me. This sentence I believe and admire, yet never 'apply'. When people find a girl always looking at what's beneath her feet, careful of tumbling down. What do you expect? For God's sake what do you expect?
I always think of my students and how they bear such an extraordinarily boring person teaching them. And when they express their deepest love and appreciation, I can't help wondering what they love me for! Aren't I mere crap!
Sometimes I wanna get away from it all.
Sometimes I wanna end it all.
Logically speaking, you can hate yourself when you hurt others,or feel very unreligious. But then I honestly don't hurt people intentionally at least - and I'm exerting some effort reconnecting with God. And when I make a mistake, it's not like nobody else does it, but nobody hates himself for it like i do.
If I don't know the disease, how can I ever know the cure!