Self Pity Is Not An Attractive Quality

โ€œSelf pity is easily the most destructive of the non-pharmaceutical narcotics; it is addictive, gives momentary pleasure and separates the victim from reality.โ€
โ€• John Gardner

It should be fairly obvious what this post is about. I haven’t posted for ages due to my a levels and feeling like I have failed every exam did send me into a chasm of self pity.

Which didn’t help anything and make me feel even more shit about myself.

All I think about is everything I’m bad at. My biggest downfall is comparing myself to others and honestly, I can not be the only one. I think of everything I’m bad at.
This is no excuse. But growing up my friends had books. Or calculators. Or even a map.
I had a tv.

I have no one to blame but myself, there’s no point in feeling sorry for myself but think about the things I can do instead.

Self pity is a horrible thing and it does a lot more damage then resolute. But in my time of self pity I did have time to reflect, I still have no idea what I’m going to do in life but I can’t waste any more time on self pity.

So let me get it out there:
I’m not the best writer
I’m not the best speaker
I’m not the prettiest
I’m not the most popular
I’m not the best artist

But that’s what makes me, me.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m thankful for what I have, in time maybe I can learn to write better or be more confident.

Thanks for reading ๐Ÿ™‚

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Alone.

Alone.
All alone
I’m all alone.
All alone
Alone.

The room, the dingy, small room stretched out before me. There was no way out. There was nothing to do.

So I did what any rational person would do.
I curled up into a ball and cried.
I cried for I don’t know how long.
I cried until there was nothing left.

When I stopped, when I was physically unable to cry any more. I got up. I could feel my hair static, tears dried on my face. I looked horrible.
Yet I still put my self in front of the mirror. My eyes wide, with several dark rings like someone had punched me- I wish it were that simple. My hollowed out face, too skinny to be alive. But why am I still walking? Even though every single step hurts, it hurts even more than the last.

I will show you how beautiful you are. A memory

I turned away from the mirror. I couldn’t handle it. From my sickly grey skin to my empty sad eyes. I was staring at a stranger.
But the person I once was is a distant memory.
So where did that leave me? Who was I?

You are beautiful.
Before.

I would I have walked away but before I could the walls were closing in around me. They were coming closer, and I was helpless. All I could do was stand there and wait for the pain to stop.

I woke up to what felt like weeks later. Still feeling groggy and looked around hoping it was all a dream. No it was all the bitter reality.
Something was different I wasn’t alone. There was someone with me.
In the shadows they were simply a figure, only when they stood up out of the shadows did I realise who it was.

She hadn’t changed. Her hair, her face, her height. All except her expression, cold and hard.
I was glad when she had not changed now there may be hope and I haven’t missed out on anything.

“Hello”.

Her face remained stern.
And we remained silent for a long while.
She didn’t move, or talk and it seemed like she didn’t even breath.
“How are you?”
This question annoyed her. For a brief second her face softened, to something familiar, something human.

“How do you think I am? You left me. Is that the answer you want. What kind of mum does that to her child?”

“I’m sorry”. Was all I said, what else could I say?

“For all those years you missed, of missed performances, assemblies, exams. You’re sorry”.

The tension could be cut with a knife and I did the worst thing, I stayed silent.

“No”, she laughed cynically. “You’re not sorry, that’s beyond your capability. You have no human emotion, your not honest or sincere,or happy or even sad.”

I stayed quiet because I knew it was true. I looked back to a time when I showed one emotion toward her. But I couldn’t find one
So she went on.

“You always wanted me out of the house, was I such a terrible person that my mother couldn’t even stand to be around me.
I wasn’t good enough so you signed me up for everything extracurricular possible.
Even after all that, you left me.
The saddest part was you were all I had.
You wouldn’t even let me have friends around, you wanted me to be as lonely as you.
Well congratulations you got your wish. I’m 27 and still am single. I’m just as inhuman as you.”

Then I saw her, I really saw her. A lady, beautiful even with her hair in her face, in frumpy clothes.
Then I remembered how shy she was.

I will show you how beautiful you are.

Then my world crumbled down.
The walls collapsed.

Then my thoughts came out.
“The reason I made you leave the house was so you would explore the world. You could see there was more beyond the world than this dirty small house.
You were good enough, but do you ever wonder if you would be this smart or athletic if I didn’t sign you up for endless classes. I bet you have a well paid job as a doctor now. I bet a million guys chase you but your too shy to realise. If not for your looks but your personality, not even I could break you out of your spirit.
You’re friends weren’t good for you, they never were.”

The worst thing was she didn’t shout back, or fight me. She hugged me, she forgave me for missing out on over twenty years of her life.

She hugged me while I sobbed.

But even with tears streaming down my face I could see from the corner of my eyes, my daughter calling the institute.

My own flesh and blood sending me back to that place.

I’m not crazy.
I’m just alone.