Self-Loathing is Not a Super Power

Day 465

In keeping with my renewed commitment to this blog, I made time yesterday to read up on what my OCD Blogging friends were up to (check out their blogs for yourself in my links section). I discovered a handful of them were dealing with the issue of self-loathing. As any of you who struggle with OCD know, this is one of the major issues we face. It was a monumental hurdle for me and one of the most significant breakthroughs I have experienced so far.

Like most people with OCD, I never thought much of myself. As a child, I can remember the shock I would feel when anyone expressed an interest in me. I lived with constant chaos in my head, so I made the assumption that being around me must be as excruciating as being me. Therefore, it never occurred to me that anyone would voluntarily subject himself or herself to that kind of aggravation. The struggle was exasperated by the fact that I was hiding the "crazy". In order to keep my secret, I had to allow people to believe things about me that weren't true. For instance, I had so many rituals to perform on a daily basis, by the time I was a teen that I could never be ready to leave or arrive somewhere on time. I had a choice to make. I could either tell people about my issues or just let them think that I was arrogant or self-centered and that I just didn't care about being on time. I chose the latter, because it allowed me to keep my secret.

Keeping the secret was damaging in many ways, but I was thoroughly convinced that, if people knew what was really going on, they would dislike me as much as I did. I made a practice out of taking the blame and the punishment for things other people did, because I believed it to be a strange form of nobility. By the time I reached adulthood, it was common for me to go around looking for opportunities to step in front of oncoming emotional trains. I began every sentence with, "I'm sorry..." I gave away all personal power and surrendered to the idea that I was simply destined for martyrdom. I became the sin eater for everyone around me absorbing as much blame, guilt, shame, and responsibility as I could stand. This was my service, my means of redemption - a way to make something of value out of my worthless existence.

You can see how therapy and I were bound to collide. Coach had his work cut out for him, but this was not his first rodeo. He helped me to see some very important factors. Here they are:

"I don't understand why people love me when I don't love me."
It doesn't matter! What matters is that they do! And, because they do, I get the undeserved privilege of accepting and returning their love. Not only that, I have the responsibility to accept and return their love.

"They shouldn't love me. If I were them, I wouldn't love me."
It doesn't matter! I'm not them! People have the free choice to love whom they choose and it is horrifically unfair, not to mention totally impossible, for me to try to deny them that freedom. The only choice I have is to make them thankful or miserable because of it.

"By withdrawing, I'm limiting the number of good people exposed to my crazy."
No I'm not! I'm simply causing all of those good people to wonder why I'm so angry, hurt, or whatever else they believe because I'm not talking. Just like love, people have the freedom to subject themselves to whom they choose and it is ridiculous to think that I can control that. They obviously love me when they don't even know what's really wrong. Finally having an explanation and getting to be part of the solution can only help.

Look, I'm most likely stuck with this thing in some form for the rest of my life, so I had to decide which parts I would embrace and which parts had to go. I believed I was only hurting myself and that somehow I deserved it, however that wasn't true. My self-loathing did the most damage to my friends and family who pledged to love me no matter what. If I was such a terrible person, what did that say about my friends choice of companions? What did it say about my wife's choice of a mate? What did that say about the very genes that made my children who they were? I had a decision to make and I'm better for my choice. Take it from me, self-loathing is not a super power.