I want to die.
I want to rid myself of these grotesque feelings that plague me day and night with no end in sight.
I want to die.
My mind that conjures horrid thoughts. My feelings that have no compassion. My soul that has no purpose. I want them to die and cease to exist. Never have I ever hated myself with such passion. I look at myself in the mirror and I tell myself that I am the ugliest, least talented person I know. My face, my mind, my heart, and my soul repulse me. Do I have to live with myself till death do us part? I joked with my friend that we should switch minds and she said I wouldn’t want hers. No, she wouldn’t mine. Aren’t I supposed to be my biggest supporter? The one who cheers for me when no one else does? The one who holds out her hand to pick me up when I stumble and fall? Yet, I am my biggest enemy. Others have friends who are snakes behind their backs. Sisters, who wish them nothing but failure. But me, I constantly whisper words of negativity, unconfidence, mistrust, and disgust to myself. I loathe it.
Release me from the shackles that bind me to comparison. Shackles that lock me away from seeing that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Bear me anew with a soul that longs for the Lord and a heart that cares for others. Create in me a pure heart that is not shaken by my failure. What do I have to do to erase my memories and adopt a new way of thinking? Is this one of my trials? I used to pray for God to bring his creation down to its knees. I suppose I am part of it for I find myself at His feet not daring to beg for mercy for what I have done is far to abhorrent to utter. Repentance is such a cruel thing. Easier said than done, I should say. Today I confess my wrongdoings and tomorrow I do it again.
Romans 7:24:
Wretched man that I am!
Who will deliver me from this body of death?
I no longer have the will to confess because God sees all. He sees me, yet I have lost His favor. Did I ever have it? I suppose I did when I was a child but lost it in search for…For what? What is this that I am searching every nook and cranny for? What is this empty hole that I cannot fill? The Bible says God hates evildoers. I did evil against myself and Him, so I am na evildoer. Does that mean that God hates…
I hate this. I loathe this. I abhor this. There is not a passionate word that can describe how I feel. I used to love myself, I think, and I had a myriad of reasons as to why. But now, I can’t think of anything good about me. Have I ever loved myself? Not when I get good grades or speak properly or do “good” things. Just me, purely as I am; the sole existence that I embody. I used to find myself so beautiful. But now, I can’t stand looking at myself in the mirror. I can’t even imagine a guy falling for me. No amount of bold makeup, fancy clothes, or elaborate hairstyles make me as beautiful as I want to be.
What is beauty? I know that it is in the eye of the beholder but why isn’t my eye beholding the beauty that I have, if I have it? I tell myself repeatedly that I love myself. That I am smart, beautiful, and intelligent but my heart doesn’t believe it; such pompous words. I’m tired. I want to sleep so that I can escape my thoughts. I hate being in my mind. I hate the thoughts that run across it. I hate it.
What should I do? Where should I begin?
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