Self-loathing is something that ate at my core from a young age. It became worse as the years wore on and I had few friends. Even as I succeeded in my career, I didn’t get any happier.
Self-loathing came to a whole new level when I “realised” people wanted me dead. Aghast I questioned who I was to warrant such deep hatred. Had I killed someone and hadn’t admitted it? Did I cause someone to commit suicide? Surely if I couldn’t remember anything I mustn’t have done it? In one hospitalisation I was convinced I must have killed someone while driving.
Then I considered my core values: social justice, equality, a truly welcoming and inclusive multiculturalism, recognition of traditional owner’s rights, and I thought how I hadn’t lived up to my ideals. How, because of psychic pain I wasn’t active in the way I wanted, or because I am white…
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