Winner-Take-All

I cannot tell you why one hates oneself.  But I can tell you how.

Or rather, I can at tell you how this one specific self practices hate.

It starts with a mirror and ends with a gladiatorial battle of the wills (and in my own defense, this is not nearly as vanity driven as a mirror would have you believe).  Gladiatorial.

Because what I see in the mirror is not a person.  What I see in the mirror is a conglomeration- the gathering point of all bad things.  It begins as a person but then, with fracturing subtlety, mutates into a living list of all my faults.  Every horrible thought I have about myself becomes a limb; a strand of hair; an eyelash; a sinew.  My bones become coated with suffusive badness- the infrastructure of disease; the infrastructure to a demon.  Humanity subsides to said disease and demon.  And that demon is a bloody gladiator.

How do you hate yourself?  How do I hate myself?  With boldness and with boundless control; with vigor.  You break your heart, you break your soul, you break your spirit. And then you lose your mind trying to put them all back together with some semblance of grace and goodness.  And for every ferocious inch that you fight, that demon inside of you will laugh and take two back, if not three.  The demon that my body becomes in the mirror has won equally as many battles as I have.

I say equally as many because I am still here.  I struggle every single day and I fight every single day.  But I am still here.  For whatever reason, this damaged brain and brutalized heart, soul, and spirit have decided they, too are gladiators.

I suppose I am writing this because I have to fight.  And sometimes the writing is the only fighting I can do.

Until Next Time..