I feel like I´m pretty close to the core of my self-rejection, but I´m not sure if I can put it into words that won´t make me reject myself. There is a way of writing down painful truths that causes just the right amount of pain to be cathartic, but isn´t open and indecent self-debasement. That way is hard to find and it is by far not always accessible to me.

If done right, this writing down of uncomfortable things gradually lifts the burden of shame, embarrassment and self-loathing. Most of the time, though, I´m incapable of helping myself that way. I have to deal with those feelings by engaging in daydreams and imaginary dialogues in which some kind and patient person tells me what I need to hear. It would be pointless to write those dialogues down here. I´d have to write an actual story that also contains context, gestures, facial expressions, mutual feelings. Even in private that´s too intimate for me. I never turn those daydreams into stories. This inability, though, is extremely frustrating. It is responsible for a great deal of my crankiness. Also, my need to daydream in order to regulate my feelings of shame is responsible for a lot of my time-wasting.

It is not what I wanted to write about, but it is as valid an insight as any that apparently my shame keeps me from being effective in any area. It sometimes stops me even from getting up to brush my teeth. My inertia, of course, causes me even more shame. It´s a vicious circle similar to that of depression. It wouldn´t be such an interesting notion if that shame didn´t feel so specific.

Usually, when you are ashamed, someone is bound to ask: “What are you ashamed of?” I feel like I´m getting close to the point of being able to answer that.

I`m not looking for that answer in order to fix what´s wrong with me. I´m looking for that answer in order to give something to myself that I have been denied all my life.


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