Uncategories Struggles & Self Hatred

Struggles & Self Hatred

Published on 8:51 PM By Aunica
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Brokenness. Vulnerability. Weakness.
Those may be the three words I loath the most in the english language.
I hate weakness.
I hate admitting I'm broken.
I hate realizing I can't do it on my own.
I hate being open about things I'm struggling with.
I'm much more comfortable putting on a mask.
The mask of seeming perfection.
The mask of perpetual happiness.
The mask that says "I'm always okay" "i like who I am" I'm not struggling."
The truth is that i hate myself.
There are days when I can't stand myself.
I don't like who I am.
I'm my hardest critic.
I struggle to thank God for creating me the way I am.
I get frustrated when I struggle and hate when I have idols.
I especially get upset when I backslide.
I want sanctification to be overnight.
I want to be perfect. I want to be happy. I want to focus on God all the time.
But I don't.
I fall short. I'm weak. I mess up.
I suck. I sin. I put things in front of God.
And it's frustrating. And often I hate myself for it.
I punish myself for sinning and pull away from God when I'm struggling.
How could He still love me when I'm running in the opposite direction?
How could He still desire me when I don't feel desired or desirable?
How could He ever want my company when I'm drenched in the filth of my sin?
I don't understand it.
It's easier for me to accept that God's upset with me for sinning and falling short than to accept that He loves me unconditionally.
Jesus loves me.
The three hardest words for me to accept.
Hard to accept than "you are ugly" or "you are hated" or "no one likes you."
I'm insecure.
I hate who I am.
I don't accept compliments.
I'm constantly trying to fix myself.
To be better.
To struggle less.
To look better.
To be thinner. Prettier. More artsy. More preppy. Funnier. Happier.
I desire so much so to be liked, not by others, but by myself - that it's exhausting.
I don't necessarily care what other people cares, but I care what I think of myself.
And I'm never satisfied.
I'm never skinny enough. I'm never pretty enough. I'm never outgoing enough.
There's always something wrong.
I'm never spiritual enough.
I struggle too much.
I can't balance things.
I'm too nerdy. I'm too shallow. I'm too fake.
It's easier for me to be fake with people than to be real.
I feel comfortable behind my mask.
It fits my face.
It gives me an aura of confidence. That I know who I am, and that I like that person.
It makes me feel powerful.
It makes me feel like I can help other people without them getting too close.
It's easy for me to hide behind a laugh or a smile, but my eyes often are doors to the pain below.
I like listening to other people's problems and trying to help them, but the minute they ask me how I'm doing - I shut down.
I hate burdening people, thus I hate talking about myself.
Seldom do I show my emotions.
Seldom do I show how I'm truly doing.
The masks makes it easy to fake a smile.
To pretend that I'm doing great.
I overcompensate when I'm struggling, frantically scrambling for an answer to why I'm struggling in the way I am or trying to find an answer to have supposed closure.
The reality is this:
I try to put a tiny piece of duct tape on a fountain of pain and unexpressed emotions.
It doesn't hold it in.
Just because I know the right answer or have a verse for it doesn't mean it's sunk in yet.
It's okay for me to not be okay.
It's okay to struggle.
Jesus loves me.
What? How? I don't understand.
It's crazy to me.
Even when I hate myself, Jesus still loves me.
And God isn't mad at me for struggling, for sucking, for sinning.
I was, and am, covered by the blood of Christ - so God sees Jesus' perfection, instead of my shortcomings.
Truth is sometimes hard to swallow.
Aunica

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