The Armor of Self Hatred
How beating yourself up is a defense, but not a good one
Negative Self Talk, Who Does it Serve?
For a loooong time, I’ve had a pretty loud voice in my head who is at best, dismissive, and at worst, demoralizing. He says things like:
- You’re an idiot
- Well, you screwed that up
- I can’t believe you… actually, I can believe it, dumba$$
These voices are sometimes loud enough that I’ll speak them out loud. This is to the detriment of my loved ones or friends, who either ignore me or admonish me.
It’s a crummy habit that I’ve built up over my life. But one that bears unpacking, because it serves (or at least served) a purpose.
It protects me. Let me explain.
My Favorite Quote from “Game of Thrones”
This is apparently not just my favorite quote either (many people highlighted it in my Kindle version of the book). To save you a click:
“Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.” — Tyrion Lannister
That phrase always stuck with me, because your armor doesn’t have to be something positive. For Tyrion, his armor is the fact that he’s conniving while playing the part of the “drunken, lascivious dwarf.”
He owns who he is.
Not being good enough/ hating yourself is in many ways, my armor.
It is a protection against the fact that in many, many instances, I have not been good enough. I’ve made stupid mistakes and broken many things in my life.
By being “an idiot”, or by being known as someone who “screws up”, I don the armor of the person who can’t do anything right. The incongruity of my failure is solved: I am a person who is destined to fail.
Inheriting Rumination and Narcissism
My dad displays many traits of a narcissist, and is, as I’m told, a strong ruminator. He will perseverate about things that have gone wrong, like injuring himself, or any sort of major mistake he’s made.
My aunt told me that he was at a sports camp growing up, and he broke his leg (I saw the photo). He was, in her words, “such a grump” for the whole summer. While breaking your leg sucks, I could feel the rumination in her story, as he made everyone miserable about how he’d hurt himself.
I am, in many ways, my dad. I can ruminate heavily, and I definitely blame myself much more than I blame my circumstances (i.e., a negative, but still narcissistic world view).
I’ve inherited a predisposition to focus on blaming myself when things go wrong, instead of, what I assume well adjusted people do: figure out how to not screw up again. Go from oh f**k to OK instead of just repeating the failure on a record.
Years of beating myself down has left someone who knows nothing different. Self-hatred has been my norm for a long time.
Self Hatred’s Protection: A Self-fulfilling Prophecy
If someone spurns your affections, you didn’t deserve them.
If you didn’t win, you’re of course a loser.
I could keep listing out scenarios but I think you get the idea. When you fail in a world of self-hatred, failure is the norm. It’s the expectation. You have reaffirmed your inner voice.
Successes are luck, but repeated failure and rejection are a guarantee.
This prophecy doesn’t somehow fix itself. It ends with self-harm and worse: oblivion. As you care less, you do less to improve your chances, until there is no you left. You ride the spiral all the way down, comforted as you know you are destined to fail.
Self-hatred is an armor, and it has spikes facing in.
Tipping Up a Downward Spiral
I still struggle with who I am and fighting off these feelings. Part of the most difficult thing about feeling this way is that, the feelings do serve me. They explain when things have gone wrong and why. Losers lose.
But their cost is much higher than their value. I have to accept not only my imperfection, but ignorance and ineptitude, not as constants, but as current states. I have to not reach for hating myself, but reach for acceptance and promises to improve, to tip the spiral upward.
Some of that is just by writing about it, talking about it, but I think the most important bit has been giving myself something to be proud of.
I ran a half marathon and Spartan Trifecta (5k, 10k, 21k) last year. If you see the photos, I do look genuinely happy.
I’ve written pretty consistently on here, and I’ve supported my family and myself through it via working at a startup.
I did things to improve my look (kept my bald hair short, LASIK) and my physicality, which goes a long way in the self-hatred game.
Being able to respect that the person in the mirror looks better than he did before is a way to see that the spiral can’t only be down.
I’ve given myself minor successes, but more importantly, opportunities for failure that I can accept as part of my growth, instead of my descent.
Having a kid is the greatest gift in learning how to fail and get over it; your kid doesn’t care that you suck as a parent, they need you to be better. They need you to help them handle emotions they can’t. The 3 year old freaking out doesn’t need a 30+ year old freaking out. They need a rock.
I need to be better for her and for my wife and love ones. I’m not the person that will instantly love myself more, but I can hate myself less.
And I will. The armor has to come off before it crushes me.
