As beauty standards become "prettier" and mental abilities become even stricter, the average person is becoming irrelevant, undesirable. I do not want this to turn into a rant about how the social beauty standards have become unrealistic (although, they are). Rather, I am talking about what it feels like to love the person, the soul you have been nurturing but have learned to loathe at the same time.
Life can be confusing as is, but once your mind starts abusing you to the point of no longer even recognizing yourself in the mirror... You hate who see: the expression in your eyes, the sound of your voice, the skin which covers your body; it's all horrid, and you wish you could just tear it all apart. If you cannot physically destroy yourself, you might as well mentally destroy yourself, right? Every morning when you open your eyes, you curse the sun for rising; you may even just curse yourself for making it through another night. Sometimes you will get stuck here -- the darkest abyss, constricting your lungs, restricted of air.
While you sit there, with a glazed stare in the mirror, you also see everything you love about yourself. Maybe a freckle placed perfectly on your cheek or the way your lips move. You see those few things about yourself that you would never change. Then there is the real you, the person who is only known by very few. You look at yourself and see the person who loves so deeply and works so hard; you see the dedicated and empathetic you. These good days are cherished. When you greet the sun with a sigh rather than with a groan, you begin the day excited (as excited as you can be,) and optimistic; you simply cannot wait.
The most confusing days of them all: mornings when you just feel empty, lost. These mornings are even more difficult than those that are loathed. It is during these mornings that you begin to question everything about yourself; you question whether or not you even have any desirable (much less adequate,) qualities which is even worse than simply pointing out your flaws versus your "perfections," because you see nothing good or relevant.
However, as you begin to accept your fate -- the rollercoaster that is loving and loathing yourself -- you will welcome each morning (even if that welcome is done with a grunt, sigh, or the wish for a stiff drink). You will have come to realize that life, in general, is a gift, and nothing is a guarantee. While the struggle of defining your self-worth will always be difficult, you will find what it takes to love yourself more than you loathe yourself, and that will be great. Remember, you are worth loving, and it will get better (with a lot of hard work).
