Depressive Musing

Have you ever been told you’re important and your body just rejected it? Like, not just your mind but your whole being rebelled from the inside out screaming no. Or maybe, it wasn’t so much a scream as a whisper so persistent and hushed that only a skilled self-hater could hear it.

My self-loathing is cleverly disguised. Not to anyone else, but to my own head. I tend not to notice when I’m being terribly self-depricating. It must be pointed out to me, and even then I may deny it. There are many parts of me that I find unattractive, inefficient, unkind, or even broken. I refer to myself as being broken in many ways, but most visibly in friendships and relationships. I see myself as never being enough or doing enough.

I’m lucky to have people who tell me what I’m worth so often. Friends, family, lovers, all tell me what I’m worth. And, I do know what I’m worth. However, it is an uphill struggle to get my head and my heart to agree on the aspect of a complete me.

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