“I hate myself”: The Parasite of Self-Hatred
Tags: Self Improvement, Personal Development, Life Lessons, Inspiration, Psychology

Original article written by Dr. Samar Habib at https://conscioused.org/wiki/i-hate-myself/

Everyone has a Parasite living inside their brain. And mine was running the show.

Standing in front of a mirror in my parents’ home, aged 30, single and shamefully broke, I slapped myself in the face as hard as I could. How could you be so stupid? And again, slap! You’re so stupid! And again, and again, and again, and again, until I couldn’t take the pain anymore.

You’re such an idiot. I hate you. I hate you so much. How could you be so weak? How could you be so stupid?

And out of the silence came one last slap to sear the pain in a ripe, red seal.

Rewind back a couple of years: one of the courses I was teaching at a local university was about sexuality, it caused controversy and I got hated on big time. Later that year I was assaulted. I held on for another two semesters before, on an impulse, I resigned.

Ever since that moment, a voice in my head kept hating me for throwing away everything I worked so hard for. For not being strong enough to weather through.

The rumination was never-ending and the Parasite was eating me alive, day and night. The only way to escape the incessant negative thinking was to sleep. And I slept most of the time. When awake, I was paralyzed by fear and anxiety — I didn’t answer calls, go anywhere or see anyone. Even sunlight felt hostile to the skin. Everything hurt.

According to the Toltec Tradition, everyone has a Parasite just like this. She might be domesticated and not giving too much trouble, but all it takes is one mistake, and she’ll spare no expense ravaging your soul. In times of trouble these Toltec Parasites can become inflamed, and when they do, they take over our inner worlds.

You’ll know your Toltec Parasite is inflamed when you find yourself stuck in a repetitive thought-loop and the unstoppable rumination debilitates you. The anxiety triggered by the looping thoughts forces you to stay in ruts longer than you need to, prevents you from taking action, and sows seeds of self-doubt, puncturing holes in your self-esteem.

Man, I wish I knew back then what I know now. But there were no shortcuts to figuring out what to do with my inflamed Parasite. I can’t say I have it all sorted out, but I have learned some valuable lessons to keep my rumination in check.

Lesson 1: Realize that it’s no big deal

I sink in my mattress, overwhelmed with depression and both the inability and unwillingness to do anything. I don’t realize that I am doing something by listening to Tibetan Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron. That doesn’t seem productive to me. I think of it as just a way to shrink from my responsibilities. And my Parasite lets me know it.

You’re a loser! You’re finished. Die already. Why are you even still here?

I hate you.

Nobody cares about you.

You don’t deserve to live.

Kill yourself while you still can.

That last one is especially weird. Hurry! Senility is only 60 years away! But I guess no one said your inner critic had to be logical.

Pema Chodron makes me realize that nothing is permanent. From her I learn that impermanence is one of the Buddhist precepts.

Can you imagine the relief I feel the moment she reminds me that circumstances, feelings, preferences, environments, desires, and everything under the sun are all impermanent? Nothing lasts forever, everything is ever-changing, Pema says. The teaching sinks into my chest like the good medicine it is.

I relax into my pain. I stop resisting, knowing it’s not forever. Relaxing into pain is like gliding a hot knife through butter. Relaxing into pain is the first few moments of getting into a warm bath. Something heavy and awful releases its hold on me. And as I relax into my pain I take to heart the words of the Beatles song: “There will be an answer, let it be.”

The first rule of Parasite is not to resist Parasite. Let it be.

Lesson 2: Separate Self From Toltec Parasite

You know when someone says they’re “in two minds” about something? It’s because one part of their personality is saying one thing, and the other is saying something else. So, like with me, one part of me thinks I dodged a bullet (probably literally) leaving that job, and another part is bitch-slapping me for quitting.

So one day I decide to start talking to my Parasite. By isolating her as a part and having a conversation with her, I expose her to the other parts of me that are logical and playful. I take the venom out of her sting, slowly, over time. I play the long game. Patient and persevering, like the tortoise from Aesop’s fable.

Take for example the time I was invited to Turkey to give lectures there. My Parasite finds a way to rain on my parade. Your research is world-famous, but there isn’t a single university with balls big enough to hire you, she says.

“Well, if you’re not going to let us do anything other than lie in bed all day, I’m going to listen to more Pema when I get home,” I say to her.

“Shut up, you’re a loser anyway,” she shoots back.

“Get lost.”

“I see your ‘Get lost,’ and I raise you ‘’Forget everyone and everything”. “I don’t want to play!” Parasite exclaims. “I want to stay angry, abrasive and mean.”

Then she falls silent.

Just like with any bully, it helps if you can prepare your responses in advance. Hypnotherapist Marisa Peer teaches her clients to say this to the mean people in their lives: “thank you for sharing that.” It shuts them down, and shuts them up, she says.

I’m standing in line at the Virgin Airlines check-in counter, minding my business and she hits me with I hate you! Just like that, spontaneously.

I hate you. You’re a loser. Kill yourself while you still can.

Every word sends a venomous shiver down my spine.

You’re worthless. Nobody cares about you. They screwed you out of house and home and you let them. Handed them what they wanted on a silver platter.

“Is that so? Please, tell me more.” I surrender to the fact of my experience. I can’t fight it anymore. I’m exhausted. I let her tear me up. And yet a strange thing happens as I surrender. She stops.

The Parasite notices I’ve shifted gears, so she adapts.

My sister, feeling sorry for me, asks me to join her for a vacation after my trip in Turkey finishes. That’s how you know people love you. They still want to hang out with you even when you’re a lava lamp of misery and a tesla coil of emotional electrocution.

The Tesla Coil of Emotional Electrocution

On a train from London to Paris and completely unexpectedly, my Parasite flares up: What now, Einstein? Seriously, what are we going to do with all that time we still have to live? You can’t kill yourself; it’s too selfish and you’re too much of a chicken to do it. Besides, you’d probably mess it up, anyway.

To be perfectly honest, she’s right. I don’t see suicide as an option. I don’t kill spiders or cockroaches, how could I bring myself to kill an entire human being? It’s impossible. But there is an insidious taunting going on. She’s subtly pointing out my incompetence. Even in suicide, I’d fail.

Then it hits me. What if I could play with the voice of my inner Parasite? What if I could raise her pitch so she starts to sound like Chip or Dale from the Chipmunks? What if I imagine her as shredder from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?

I am now waiting eagerly, silently for her to come on. She’s onto me. She lays low for the rest of the trip. The more I lay in wait for my rumination to start, the more it subsides.

Lesson 3: Identify with the Listener Not The Part

Over time, I start to see that the Parasite is a part of me, and that I am the whole. I start to ask the question who am I? It’s actually a special type of meditation taught by a Hindu mystic named Ramana Maharshi. I would close my eyes and ask who am I? and wait for the answer. All thinking would come to a stop and what I’m left with is who I am.

In the ancient spiritual traditions of Hinduism and Buddhism we are divine beings. Likewise for Don Miguel Ruiz Jr. of the Native American Toltec Tradition. He’s the first one to teach about about The Parasite. We are not our thoughts, we are the witness to our thoughts, he says.

This witness is cosmic consciousness. It is everywhere. It is never born, never dies, always was and always will be. That’s who I am.

This new realization transforms my relationship to my life and the people who venture into it. I don’t go to bed resenting villains or cursing enemies. I don’t thirst for revenge at some theoretical point in the future. I understand that we are all precious and that our actions don’t define our divinity.

If you don’t want to get into spirituality then consider this idea from communication and listening expert, Julian Treasure, instead:

You are not the inner voice. You are the one listening.

You have no idea how much that inner shift has saved my life. I did it in meditation by separating my awareness from my mind, but that seems a little abstract, so here’s a more fun exercise to try out:

Go to a busy place but where you would still feel safe. Close your eyes and focus on the sounds around you.

Pick a single sound, a nearby chirping perhaps, the overall noise of the crowd, the wind, whatever. Focus on nothing but the sound. When I do this exercise, I focus so much on the sound I have the experience of disappearing. I no longer have biographical thoughts. Thoughts about who and where and what and when I am cease. I’m just receiving the sound. I am the sound. There’s nothing else. Just sound. No judgment. No self. No chance for me to beat-up or uplift myself.

I practice this listening meditation whenever I need reminding that I’m not the voice. I’m the listener. When the voice begins to overwhelm, I know that I can take the position of the listener, rather than identify with what the voice is saying. The more you practice this, the better you’re able to disengage from the distress. It’s like a muscle. The more you practice, the better you get.

Ideally and at all times, I want to be able to know that I’m the listener, not the voice.

Try it. Go to a busy place. Set a timer if you have to. Close your eyes. Become the sound.

Lesson 4: Investigate the Origin of the Part…

Continue reading at https://conscioused.org/wiki/toltec-parasite/