16 Jul Life’s a rocky beach

Another piece on your inner turmoil Nic, really? Get a new therapist already, jeez!

Today’s topic – My dear, old friend, self-hatred. I have been having a time of it. The last few weeks It has hit an all-time high. I honestly do not think I have felt this low about myself since 1995 when my boyfriend called to ask if I wanted to come round his house. In the one minute it took me to run from the kitchen where our landline phone was to the living room to ask my Mum if I could go to his house and have a lift and back to the kitchen again – he decided that he did not want me to come over anymore his exact words were *clears throat* “Don’t bother actually, you’re dumped. Ha-ha!” the cut off tone was deafening.

I clutched that handset hard and bit down on my lip to try and stop the tears. Just like that he did not like me anymore. Instead of thinking he was a douche for doing that to me (or the fact that we were 11) I spent many a night of my summer holidays clutching my pillow listening to “Love ain’t here anymore” by Take That crying into my pillow wondering what I had done to make him not like me. I still do this now. The music has changed it is either a lot of Placebo or Taylor Swift but, if anything I ever do does not quite go right, I take it personally. It is never, ever them. There is never any rationalisation or realising that, maybe they are the problem, it is always down to me. my head just repeats “Why don’t they like me? What did I do wrong? I am obviously just shit”. If anyone ever wants to do a case study on the worst one person can feel in a ghosting scenario than I am your gal.

Once I get into this tornado of crippling self-hatred, I am like Elsa swirling round in the snow cradling my crazy head in my hands feeling like I am going to explode with nothing but pain, emptiness and cold. Sometimes the thoughts I have are preposterous – Like I think this blog is terrible, you should see how stressed I am getting that whoever reads this is going to think “Christ, this is a bunch of wallowing self-pity, she can’t even write” when in fact I think my Mum is the only one whoever reads these (Hi Mum, Love you!). Once in a blue moon, I get a bit brave and confront those bad feelings I have. That also does not go in my favour because it seems that when I do that people dismiss my feelings, tell me a different outcome from what I have said and then I just end up thinking I am the one in the wrong.

Every single break up I have had the partner has moved on to someone else within weeks. I was never picked in PE I was always the one left at the end. None of my incredible window displays have won the Christmas window competition. I had to acetone soak my baby angel skin fingertips because I had super-glued them together making Elf sized books – not a single shred of recognition. I am a steppingstone until something better comes along and I let people down all the time. This is what my brain tells me every single day.

I talk so much smack about myself that I cannot unthink these thoughts. If I ever hear someone talking shit about themselves well, I am ferocious. There is nothing I hate more than hearing people say bad things about themselves which is why its even more bizarre that I let this nestle in my chest so comfortably. I even had a word with a woman in Primark the other day because she was, she said she was two stone away from bikini ready and I was like “Babe, you’re bikini ready, you’re beautiful just as you are” whilst thinking Christ I am so grateful I have my mask on so she can’t see my crooked teeth.  I read an insta inspo earlier (I am such a millennial I LIVE for them right now) that said to replace the word I or me with a name of someone you love when you are talking badly about yourself and see how you feel. I tried it and all I felt was sadness that I literally have no idea what to do to stop myself feeling or talking like this about myself.

I drag so many heavy stones around with me and I am so exhausted all the time. I am tired of trying to impress people when I do not even need to because what difference does it make? My circle is small but it is mighty I have a few close friends that I love but more importantly they make me feel loved and worthy of their love so I do not need to impress anyone else. I do not even need to impress them. I just need to impress myself. We are conditioned to believe that to achieve happiness we need to achieve great things. Fake it til you make it. Quitting is not an option. Am I the only one that thinks these are not great sentences? Do I have to spend a few days a week in utter pain – metaphorical and literal – to carve my career? I cannot make a change because then I am quitting which would mean that I – in society’s standards – am a failure right? I cannot do this anymore. All I want to be is happy. I keep trying to find outlets to bring me happiness, things I can focus on to bring me joy. I am my joy. I am my outlet but I cannot find my way to me. I have created all these mounds of mess and until I tidy these piles then I cannot tidy me. I just need to remember where I put my sweeping brush.

I know I am a good person; I make mistakes time to time because I am human and everyone does that is how we learn and grow.  I try to be kind and caring at all times, I am hilarious, I always bring snacks, I fashioned a crab out of the end of a washing up bottle some straws and teeny pegs for crying out loud.

From today, I am going to write down three things I like about myself or things I have done that I should be proud of. I may even do weekly re-caps for you. If you are feeling like this too then do the same thing. Take it day by day. Keep telling yourself that this is just for now and once those mounds of mess are swept you are going to peachy keen, jellybean.

If all else fails, a swim in the sea really helps.