My head is a whirlwind, it feels like my thoughts are so quickly thought of that they disappear just as quick. It's hard to write anything down because my head is always moving to the next thing and it's never just "I'm going to sit down and think about one thing". Sometimes it slows, I'll have a single thought that I can dwell on for a minute or so but then it's the next and the next and the next after that. Even when I want to think about something I just can't, I suppose I'm easily distracted? A short attention span? It doesn't feel simply like that though, it's an issue with me. It's not regular, it's not okay. But you see the issue lies deeper than how fast my thoughts are, it lies to what my thoughts consist of. Every single thought is a tiny snowball that's about to roll down an incredible mountain of snow. Each thought is a swirling disaster, it starts of simple but before you know it it's changed to self loathing and self hatred. I'm open one second and closed immediately the next. It's incredible when you think about it, the mind is a beautiful palace that we are all completely developed into. The person sitting across from me on the train is having their own trail of thoughts (fast or slow) and I can never tell what they are. It's for them to know and hold onto and keep close to themselves. I suppose that's why I'm hesitant to write anything down, because it's mine... these thoughts are mine. You may have had similar thoughts and be able to relate but you will never have the exact same thoughts as me.
I hate myself, thinking fast is only the beginning of a long list of reasons why. It's so hard to articulate particularly what's wrong with me. I'm good articulating other things, I can describe to you in great detail what happened in the Darwin bombings of Australia by Japan, or I can tell you about the latest movie I saw and describe to you what my reaction was to it. But when it comes to describing myself I stop in my tracks. Because how do I describe something I hate? I could say it's stupid, annoying, ridiculous, horrible, bad. But those adjectives don't do it any justice, it's deeper than that. When you come to understand that you hate yourself it's strong and powerful. It comes from a place deep inside where you start to realise that you don't want to do the things that you're doing and you don't want to look the way you do or speak the way you do. Or perhaps think the way you do. I can understand how to someone who's never felt these things, it seems ridiculous. I was once that person, a long time ago, when I loved myself and didn't know anything else. The world had a light to it and I cradled that as I walked through what I saw as a beautiful place. I didn't see it necessary to accuse the way I spoke, thought or looked. A childlike innocence (or ignorance if you're cinical like me) followed me everywhere as I sung Christian songs on Sundays and went to a respectable private school on week days. I was the perfect dream child, who loved who she was. But then that child made friends and slowly realised that the world was not a beautiful place, it was ugly and only wanted blood. So the child first started to hate how she looked, she'd stare in the mirror and compare herself to the other girls with their thin waists and shaved legs. Her child-like, chubby body was nothing to what they said was beautiful. She was never told to hate herself or told that she was fat, ugly or disgusting but she began to think it because, with all things, nothing ever stays pure.
I battled with body image issues for years before the self hatred grew. It was like a flame that I wanted to put out but my arms would only fuel the flames. The self hatred turned from my body to the way I spoke, it accused me of being too literate, accused me of having a voice too low and "boyish". It wouldn't stop poking holes in my self esteem and eventually I realised that "it" was only myself. Now you'd think that if I realised it was myself I could change the way I thought and overcome the way I felt about myself, but that's only a dream. When you realise that you hate the way you are, you start to hate everything. It's hard to describe, I can only paint the mental image; you're staring at the back of someone and they're in the dark, you're terrified of them and you need to get away but before you can the lights turn on and the person stares right back at you, you try to run but when you realise that it's yourself you're stuck still. The person devours you and you become the person that was always you in the first place, but it feels like you're becoming someone else. The changes happen before you can even recognise them, you wake up one morning and suddenly understand your horrible thoughts because all the sudden it makes sense: you hate yourself.
I couldn't ever let it stop there, the flames only had to grow and I only had to start accusing the rest of who I am as a being. I started to hate my thoughts, my head, my brain. I wanted to tear open my skull, reach in and scrape out every part of my brain that was infected. But unfortunately for me every part was infected. I couldn't find anything that I liked about myself, and when that happens you start to question the existence of yourself. You start to question wether you deserve to live because it's you in a world of misery. Nothing seems right, everything's wrong. You've been flipped upside down and you're walking in the sky but everyone else is still the same and you can't reach them because you're too far gone and it's too late now.
So eventually you want to kill yourself.
And eventually you try.
