Unacceptance of self leads to self-loathing. I know from personal experience, lots of it, especially with my body. My body's limitations and the reality of ability constantly change. The bigger problem is that my mind takes longer to accept the lack of ability-if it accepts my reality at all.
The spiral of self-loathing always starts with self-anger and ends up in the dead end of self-loathing. The walls are lined with tools of self-hate each calling out words that already reverberate through my mind, blocking any thoughts of self-acceptance to come through. The refusal to accept myself in my given situation leads me down a path of self-elimination, in punishment for lack of consistent ability.
The failure to communicate my lack of ability makes it even worse, as I wake up with expectations of functionality, not even super high ones, just the ability to move somewhat functionally and not in constant pain. Those are all illusions my body seems to enjoy letting my brain tell me every morning. This breeds a delightful amount of self-doubt which digs its way onto the route of self-loathing, creating a maze that has no end, lined with tools for self-harm. Self-harm is a twisted tool which wears a mask of self-care lined on the illusion of a road to self-love.
Saturday, March 23, 2019
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
Deserter of Defects
Dear Defect Deserter,
That uncomfortable feeling you're running from? The one you feel when looking at the minister, who in your mind is being exposed by the veil, unearthing imperfections, rather than keeping the illusion of perfection you have instilled upon the man of faith. The openness in which the minister shares what you assume to be his imperfections scares and shakes your sense of stability in your lair of lies.
Your lair of lies has been carefully crafted, leaving you space to judge and deem others full of imperfections, without ever casting a glance at your own defects. The veil couldn't possibly be a proper mirror, reflecting your own shortcomings. The black dye must be seeping from its wearer, your ability to see the black must mean you can help the wearer. It couldn't possibly be that your ability to see the black veil means that you are wearing one of your own, that everyone else can see, yet you refuse to acknowledge.
Deserting your path of growth and denying imperfections will lead you on a lonely icy path of solitude. When reality finally cracks the thin ice, no one will be around to save you from yourself.
That uncomfortable feeling you're running from? The one you feel when looking at the minister, who in your mind is being exposed by the veil, unearthing imperfections, rather than keeping the illusion of perfection you have instilled upon the man of faith. The openness in which the minister shares what you assume to be his imperfections scares and shakes your sense of stability in your lair of lies.
Your lair of lies has been carefully crafted, leaving you space to judge and deem others full of imperfections, without ever casting a glance at your own defects. The veil couldn't possibly be a proper mirror, reflecting your own shortcomings. The black dye must be seeping from its wearer, your ability to see the black must mean you can help the wearer. It couldn't possibly be that your ability to see the black veil means that you are wearing one of your own, that everyone else can see, yet you refuse to acknowledge.
Deserting your path of growth and denying imperfections will lead you on a lonely icy path of solitude. When reality finally cracks the thin ice, no one will be around to save you from yourself.
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