I Don't Know How Not To Hate Myself

I’ve hated myself for as long as I could remember, but with the happy face I put on, you would never know it.

The loneliness is crushing. It’s really ironic, because I’m a “people person.” Others like to be around me, but I know it’s because I project what they want. Do you need someone who listens to you and helps you with problems? I can do that. How about someone you can tell crude jokes with and laugh a lot? Got that covered. Want to geek out and talk techie sci-fi? I’m your man. I’m at the point that I barely know who I am anymore. I think I’m genuinely caring and funny, but I’m not sure. All my life I’ve been seeking the approval of others, trying to be liked by them, NEEDING to be liked by them, because I know I could never be loved. The idea of someone actually loving me seems ludicrous, laughable. This pretending is the best I’m going to get. I’m afraid that if I turned it off, let people see the real me, whoever that is, and was rejected, I’d truly have nothing. At least this way, I can hold onto the orchestrated positive regard that others have for me. To have true friends who actually care about me would mean that I would have to insert myself and intrude into their lives, and that’s not part of the “deal.” The deal is that I get to be liked, not loved.

As I go through each day, being adored and admired, (and please don’t mistake this for bragging), I’m fine. It’s when I’m alone that I’m terrified. This seems like this is as good as life will ever be for me. I’m so scared that I will be old and alone. Every day brings me closer to that possibility. I’m 36, and I’ve only been on a few dates, and have never kissed anyone. Needless to say, I’m STD-free. I’m pretty sure that my self-hatred is what is causing this. If someone is actually interested in me, I automatically think that there is something so wrong with them that they had to stoop to me, and why would I want someone who would want me?

I’m a professional with a great job. I’m not rich, but I’m not hurting financially. I’m not good looking (which is a major contributor to my low self-worth), but I have a decent body. I have hundreds of Facebook friends. (I try to make my status updates witty and memorable so that people will comment on them, because I have to have that validation. How pathetic is that?) I was class president in high school, and a leader in med school and residency. I hold positions in national organizations. I have people offering me jobs. None of it is enough. I still hate myself, and I don’t know what to do.

Yes, I am involved in church and have been from almost day one. I go dutifully every week. I am involved in different ministries. I read my Bible (almost) daily, but I still feel that God doesn’t love me, and can’t understand why He would.

I can honestly say that suicide has never really crossed my mind. Partly because of my religious beliefs, but also because, when I’m not thinking about this, things aren’t so bad. Unfortunately, as the years go by, I think about it more and more, and when I do, and the tears start to flow, and the sobs and heaves come, the mental anguish hurts so badly. The absolute worst is when I’m in a crowded room, filled with people I know and who know me, and I feel completely alone.

But then I think that it could be so much worse. I could be homeless, somewhere in a hospital bed, or any other number of things, so if hating myself and being alone is the worst I have to bear, who am I to complain?

The eyes are watering up. Thanks for listening.