The hatred I have for myself began to tip over into other people in my twenties.
Objectively, I’m successful, financially pretty ok with wealthy ish background, lots of friends, slim, reasonably attractive and when ‘on form’ and feeling ok can be a great friend; patient, kind, extremely understanding. I can be good fun and lightheaded and people seem to like me. But probably wouldn’t if they knew the truth.
fundamentally, and pretty much all the time I hate myself. I have snippets of seeing myself in the ways I describe above but it’s not consistent behaviour. I have crumbled further in recent years, made more mistakes.
I text a best friend’s boyfriend when I was 17. I knew fully what I was doing and knew it was wrong at the time.
in my early twenties I had a bit of a social crisis. Friends from school getting married etc and I just shrunk away. I didn’t got to one of the girls hen dos and I lost my circle of friends from school. It still makes me sad now. I did reach out but they were quite cruel so I didn’t try again afterwards.
at uni I used to see a guy in our friendship group in secret and then one of the girls started to like him. We carried on in secret even though she would talk about how much she liked him. When they found out they did forgive me but it was never the same again.
in my twenties I had a lovely relationship but couldn’t cope when it became more intense. I remember once I actually ran off down a canal and he had to chase me. I shouted that I didn’t love him.
I had an affair in my late twenties with a married man. He claimed to be separated and at first I believed that but a few months in I found evidence that he was definitely still very much married. I carried on.
I can be lazy at work. I’m paid a decent amount of money and some days I do the absolute bare minimum. Probably 10% of someone in nursing or another job that SHOULD be paid well. I’m awful.
i don’t get on massively well with my family. There were problems growing up in that my sister was seen as the one who could do no wrong and I was the tear away. That narrative has continued and I am not really part of the family unit in any real or genuine way. That makes me sad as my family are actually good people really, even if they made mistakes bringing us up.
I lie easily and naturally. There are lines that I draw where i wouldn’t lie and for example I would never lie to the police or about something serious. But still, I can lie and I do it well. I do it often if it benefits me. I hate myself for this.
I am intelligent and I know it and can often outwit other people in stressful situations. I had a partner who was in a very high up job, well educated and switched on. if we had an argument I would absolutely wipe the floor with him. I cannot stand myself for having this quality, my mind is always in overdrive and I am, most of the time, one step ahead without realising. I can never relax and be genuinely happy.
I confided all this in a therapist before and she said because I had self awareness this was a huge plus point and that someone who was genuinely unkind and evil wouldn’t even question themselves. How can that even be true?! I probably KNOW on some level that by analysing myself it can lessen the blow of what I do and how I behave in terms of others’ perceptions…which just makes me even more of a nasty and manipulative bitch, not less. Im still behaving the same way even though I recognise it’s not right. I am even worse than someone who doesn’t recognise it!!
When I feel alone or stressed I can be absolutely awful to my family and partner. It’s like I hate myself so much that I want to be hated by everyone else. I can’t really control the words that come out of my mouth and it is like an out of body experience. I’ve explained this to them in calmer moments but of course there’s little sympathy because a) it sounds like a feeble excuse and b) I’m still being an utter cunt and why should they care the reasons behind it.
I hate myself when I am ‘on good form’ these days because it almost scares me that I am capable of such varying degrees of behaviour. I no longer really can tell if the nice me is the real me. How can I know.
Ive made so many mistakes and lost so many people and because I can chat and engage and be a good friend when I am feeling ok, I manage to recruit more people in my life which I tend to later fuck up. I do have a few long term friends of ten years or so but we are very close and I guess it’s just that we get on so well that it’s been fine.
I am now mid thirties. I have some very good friends but my relationship with my family is very fractured and I often reflect on all the awful, manipulative, selfish things I have done. I do not cope well and I will either have days where I am absolutely brilliant and could be the most in control, sunny, kind woman and days where I don’t wash, can’t hold a conversation without getting angry and then spend significant time in tears. There is no middle ground.
I am so worried I will end up in a very awful state and unable to function at all.