It’s difficult to express the contempt I sometimes feel for myself. Difficult because:
A. I’m well-aware I’m supposed to like myself
B. I’m also aware that telling myself I stink is unlikely to make me stink less
C. Saying what I dislike about myself sometimes invites others to agree
D. Anyone who doesn’t fit under “C”—and some who do—regard self-loathing as a transparent desire for reassurance, “You’re okay, you’re okay, etc.”
“D” is reason enough to keep self-loathing to yourself, and generally I do…but sometimes I really can’t stand myself.
Mention any positive attribute and, inwardly, I will say I am not that attribute enough. If it’s good, you name it, I should be more of it. And I tell myself, maybe that’s better because it keeps me striving. I wouldn’t dare say I was a thoughtful writer or a kind person or a good parent, friend, or teacher. That’s conceited. Saying so would only make me dislike myself more.
I don’t feel good about these feelings—please don’t hate me too—but I think I’m sincere. In any case, I can’t believe I’m fishing for compliments. I’m unlikely to absorb them anyway. It’s possible I just don’t know I want affirmation, which would make me either wrong…or in denial.
No, in this age of self-esteem, people are just not allowed to dislike themselves. Of course they do, don’t they? I can’t be alone, can I?
Freud said hating yourself is proof of an overactive “superego,” the internal representative of adults who corrected you. When grown-ups like your parents and teachers and other authority figures have done their work on you, your mind replaces them with a regulating voice. Unruly impulses rise up from the unconscious and shout for satisfaction, but the superego claps its hand over their mouths. It says, “That’s inappropriate. Keep that to yourself. Only a horrible person would think such a thing.” The superego works from a model of an ideal self, the ich-ideal or “I ideal.” Anything that does not match that ideal is repressed and, according to Freud, will eventually leak out in dreams, parapraxis (Freudian slips), or memory lapses.
All of which tells me Freud agrees I’m screwed up.
I feel terrible that this inadequacy tries the patience of those around me, but I was taught strong people don’t cry and, besides, crying is really just feeling sorry for yourself. I was also taught not crying, in some situations anyway, is a sure sign you are an insensitive brute. You see there’s nothing I can’t second guess.
Like the whole self-esteem movement. Shouldn’t self-esteem be earned? And, actually, how do you earn it…for longer than a few minutes?
So when people tell me I’m too full of angst and ought not to be so hard on myself, I find myself agreeing, “I am too hard on myself,” I say, “I should like myself more. What is it with me?…sometimes, I really can’t stand myself.”
Filed under: American Life, Blogging, Life, Musings, Satire, Thoughts
D – that is a particularly dark, livid heart in the jpeg. and it’s Monday morning, but maybe tomorrow you won’t have the same “sturm und drang” feelings. As Scarlett O’Hara famously said (emoting) “Tomorrow is another day!” G
As always, thanks for commenting. “Sturm and drang”—if I understand the literary meaning—is exactly what this piece is, a sort of romantic displacement or a sense that your most powerful emotions have nowhere to go in the world.
I try not to write in voices that aren’t my own, but—even one day later—this piece seems a little foreign. Thankfully, writing sometimes helps you unload things you are tired of carrying.
This is the essential problem of you, I think. In high school, I wanted badly to make you see yourself in the way I did. But to dismiss someone’s self-loathing, for me, would be hypocrisy at its worst. But sometimes, I wish I could make you see yourself in the way I see you.
Hi MCG–
Thanks for your comment. I’d hate to think you learned self-loathing from me! I’ve always been deeply appreciative of my students’ support, especially yours. It is my essential problem, as you said, and I’m always trying to get past it. Let’s make a pact to accomplish it. Maybe the ultimate lesson is that you can’t diminish your own efforts and expect to find joy in all you ought to, like grateful students. The ultimate responsibility of a teacher is to make students believe in their capacity, and I thank you for teaching me. DBM
I feel your pain. I have just came to realize the depths of my own self-hatred. I’d call my version an “overactive superego,” which is how I found this post. Essentially, I second guess and punish myself for everything. Even if I did nothing wrong the voice sometimes pops up and screams at me that maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, that I’m being weird or boring or petty or … What you have written here resonates with me a lot.
I’m looking to try to rid myself of this. If you haven’t read Don Miguel Ruiz’ “The four agreements,” you should. It’s one of my biggest inspirations so far, other than meeting the girl who told me to read it in the first place. It’s so perfectly written. Easy to read, short, to the point, and beautiful.
At this point, I think I’ll have to take a spiritual journey of sorts. I think I’ll have to meditate a lot, go to “Vipassanas” (essentially 10 day meditation retreats), maybe take a long road trip, and try to deprogram the societal rules I have so firmly entrenched in my brain. I have to stop criticizing myself and let myself flow. I have to acknowledge that I’m not perfect, and learn to love myself. This superego, that screaming voice in my mind, takes away so much pleasure and beauty because I spend so much time in that place.
Anyways, I hope you’re doing well. Read that book and love thyself!