Why do some of us hate ourselves so much that we lose the desire to live, to the point that we lose the very will for self-preservation. That is a question that I have not found easy to answer. It is difficult to say but I've had a low opinion of myself since I could remember. I always felt inadequate, different, like I somehow was never going to measure up.
I recall from my earliest memories that I felt awkward around other people. My mind would always fill with thoughts that I wasn't as good as the people I was with. I wasn't as good an athlete, or student or church member...whatever I was doing I felt like I couldn't measure up.
So I am certain that there was a seed of low or lower self-esteem, self-image right from the very start. As I started to get older and grow up I would do things behaviorally that would reinforce this negative image.
I got in trouble shooting a BB gun with a neighborhood buddy, I started to smoke pot which affected my mood and self-image through the feelings of self consciousness. I got caught smoking dope with another friend AT school and was suspended. These behaviors reinforced my natural feeling that I was not a good guy, that I was a bad person.
This feeling of not being a good person, of being different then others was built on and expanded throughout the years. As I drank and drugged more the feeling became stronger, more complex...I crossed a line into self-hate, I believe only after my divorce and the bottom really fell out of life. I lost my job, my family was pulling away from me...I was living ONLY to get high and intoxicated, 24/7 IF I could.
That kind of living doesn't last long because either the body or the mind will eventually give up. My body was systematically being destroyed by my addiction and poor health habits. I was 6 foot 1 inch and weighed 139lbs. That is 65lbs less then I weigh today and though I could stand to lose a few pounds, I'm basically at a healthy weight for my height.
Once I crossed that line into self hate, well I couldn't go back. I literally lived as if there was NO tomorrow. I spent every dime I had, sold every investment, ran up every credit card and paid no bills. I was planning on dieing. If my drinking and drug use wouldn't kill me then I would do it myself. I hated myself so much that I really believed I was doing my loved ones a favor, that they would get over it eventually and be happier with my sorry ass out of the way. I truly believed that and that I knew better then they did about this....that didn't set too well with my family after the truth came out.
But I tried to kill myself and failed leaving me with no choice but to find a way to live. That day I awoke in the hospital was the absolute lowest point ever in my life. I had believed that suicide was failure and now I had failed at FAILURE itself. I had no idea what I would do...i was hopeless and helpless. Little did I know that things were really about to change...for the better!
