For me, self hatred is the hardest part of depression. I can reason and rationalise everything else in small portions but a self hatred smoothie is too tough to swallow. Too thick to part and too glued to sadness to chew. It sticks each waking moment and edges in during the night. Self hatred breaks down any reason for trying and make the whole fight pointless.
For me to be able to tell myself to keep on going, the word myself must first be valid.
Me, myself and I aren’t appropriate in a sentence. They don’t compute in my mind. So the beginning formulates wrong. Self hatred wins all arguments.
Self esteem is only existent in rare forms of narcissism and even then it’s an illness so what’s the bloody point.
Self hatred is spilled on every mirror the reflection on my phone as I write. Self hatred wins every fight.