This isn’t quite the sneaky hate spiral, the one which Allie Brosh describes so brilliantly on Hyperbole and a Half. This is something else. Entirely.
In recent years I’d say that I’ve managed to knock a lot of my self-loathy behaviour on the head. But every now and again, I wake up feeling like I am the worst person to ever have existed. I’m terrible and everyone knows it etc.
Sometimes I can even wake up feeling fine, happy almost, and then at some point in the day lurch frantically into this evil state of unadulterated rage.
What’s a classic trait of this state of mind is that I can’t say what it is that’s making me feel so terrible. I feel bad, and I have no explanation as to why that is. Which, in itself, makes me feel more upset.
Generally, I try to hide feelings crappiness, but even a minor set back (in any capacity) seems to open a floodgate of anger fuelled by a back-catalogue of negative thoughts from my life so far. It looks a little something like this:
Stage 1 – A Minor Setback:
Stage 3 – Self-Loathing:
Stage 4 – Crying:
Er… No illustration needed.
When I’m not falling out with printers or other bits of technology, I’m punishing myself for other minor mishaps. The other night for example, I found a tasty looking recipe (complete with mouth-watering picture next to it) in a book and decided to give it a go. Despite my best efforts, however, the end result did not, by any means, mirror the appetising delights in the picture. Immediately after sitting down to consume it I found myself yelling "THIS FOOD IS DOGSHIT" because honestly, that’s what it looked like.
Worse still, whenever I’m in a total funk this way, people seem to collect around me, more so than usual. They’re everywhere – popping up left and right with their smiles and polite conversations and telephone calls. And I know it isn’t them, it’s me being angry. I know that they’re merely existing, and I’m merely existing and we’re all just existing together. But their existence somehow fuels my feelings of irritability. Therefore, anyone who even so much takes an inhalation of breath within a five mile radius of where I am, is subject to endless sighs, tuts and aggressive rolls of the eyes by yours truly.
Ironically, less than a week prior to my stonking rage festival, I had attended a training course on building confidence and learning the power of positive thinking. I really felt as though I was feeling the benefits too, until the end of the week rapidly transformed into the beginning of the week and for whatever reason, I woke up feeling like a failure and hated everything.
Sometimes, to clear up these weird feelings that seem to appear from nowhere, I just need a good cry, or a long sleep or a massive piece of cake. Eventually my brain shifts back into gear and all the hating flows back into whatever dark abyss it came out of in the first place.
Afterwards, when I’m wringing out my pillows, and wiping the smears of chocolate cake off my bed sheets, I feel a quite stupid about it all. I have this feeling of ‘Seriously, what was I so upset about?’ and I still can’t really figure it out. And while I’m being honest, I also still feel a bit of resentment towards printers.