I Don’t Want To Be Brutal To Myself, But The Other Alternative Seems Unacceptable
By: Lark Morrigan
Tags: Self, Depression, Mental Health

Guilt runs through my veins and shame cuts the deepest. I can’t let go or re-wire my mind in a way that frees me from them.

Some days, I don’t see the point of continuing. I see flickers of light here and there and they have been sufficient enough to keep me going.

But I relapse. Again and again. I don’t know if the madness will be over. In some ways, it’s grown even worse. Perhaps I should cut myself some slack and forgive myself for falling into this mental snare again.

I can’t give myself grace. I don’t feel like I deserve it.

I re-write my inner dialogue and read it and see the same damn script all over again: I’m lazy. I should be doing more. I’m not talented enough. I could be doing much better. I should be doing all I can to make up for the lack of output early on. Nobody will think I’m worth anything unless I do something impressive.

Is there an utter lack of hope?

I’m reminded of how much I matter. That I belong. And I’m so grateful for that. It’s saved my life so many times.

That’s what I hold onto, but then an external cue or trigger cuts me down again, reminding me of how much I lack, how lazy I seem compared to others, and how far behind I am when it comes to reaching bigger goals.

Using negativity to motivate myself isn’t working. But I don’t know how else to soldier on because I’m wired in such a way that shame and mental punishment are the only correct ways to proceed. To toughen up with brute mental force. To treat every emotion as an imposter. To apply willpower as if a gun was pointed to my head.

Trust me, when I am called “soft” or “fragile,” I just want to scream, “You clearly haven’t been in my head, look at how much I’ve been growing increasingly harsh towards myself, acknowledging the cruel and callous reality around me.”

But why does this bother me so much? Why does it matter how people judge my energy, productivity, and overall progress?

I hate being shamed for being too slow.

I hate being shamed for not reaching my goals faster.

And most of all, I hate when people assume that I’m lazy and making excuses, but as most clinically depressed people can concur, it’s not easy to “snap out of depression” and just bulldoze your way through the biggest obstacles.

I still push through writer’s block. I still dream, scheme, and seek to overpower my own weaknesses. I despise any weakness and my pride is still wounded from seeing how insufficient I truly am — my two choices are to either eradicate as much of my weaknesses as I can or to accept them. And no matter how much I want to believe that I am lovable (and can even succeed) in spite of those weaknesses, I just can’t. I hate seeing how lacking I am and nothing can change my brutal self-treatment unless I actually grow to become more than what I am.

Not much is motivating me except my dark side. I wish it weren’t so, but shame keeps cutting me to the core that ignoring it and pretending that everything is just “love, peace, joy, and light” won’t suffice because the ravenous dark side of me has only grown stronger the more I attempt to do and the more harshly I look at my past self and berate her for every wrongdoing, setback, excuse, delay, and insufficiency that I can’t stand even now.

Do I want inner peace? Yes.

Do I want total self-acceptance and not to externalize my worth or put it up for anyone to judge? Hell yes.

However, I can’t tolerate laziness. I can’t tolerate not being as good as I want to be. I can’t tolerate losing myself but at the same time I also can’t tolerate others judging my true self as insufficient, unworthy, and worse than average.

But again, it’s all on me. Rationally, nobody is expecting so much of me — at least not that I’m aware of. And even if someone were, why should I let a negative opinion of me cause me to self-destruct to atone for my sorry existence? I should not have to live this way.

It’s going to take longer than expected to get through the worst of the storm. 2020 has not been my year and I highly doubt that I will “crush it” in 2021. I’ve set smaller goals that are easier to reach, and the humiliation that comes from not doing as much as other people is something I need to get over because expecting too much of myself seems to have the opposite effect — making me less productive, more shameful, and more hesitant.

Am I ready to love myself as I am? I don’t know. This alternative seems unacceptable, as if it’s the easy way out. But then again, I hate how dependent I am upon external measures of greatness and how much I keep losing myself because of it. So perhaps, this alternative really is the only way out.

All I can do is take it day by day. It’s a trying process, but I’m tired of the brutal way I treat myself because all I’m doing is dying inside — I need to save myself before it’s too late.