I am an imperfect person. That is not an opinion, it is a fact. There are a lot of things I like about myself. I am intelligent, moderately funny, kind, empathetic, and (probably dangerously) forgiving and understanding. However, there are things I don't like about myself. I avoid confrontation at toxic personal sacrifice, I talk to loud and too fast and sometimes (most times) need to do a better job of knowing when to shut-up. I am also not as physically fit or as thin as I'd like to be and am in a constant war with my hair. All of these things considered, when I look in the mirror, I recognize that though I am flawed, there is still a lot about me to love.
Yet, I have bad days, months, hell even years, just like everyone else. I spent the better part of two years in such a horrible state of self-loathing and fear, it took a shrink and a daily dosage of Zoloft to bring me back to life. But even at my lowest and weakest moment, I still knew I was a worthy person deserving of good things in life. At my worse, I am still one of God's children and for that reason alone, am worthy and deserving of love.
And that doesn't just mean love from family, friends, etc.; it also includes love of and from myself. It's funny. I see some of my female students on a daily basis get right up in someone's face if they feel they are being disrespected, yet will dress provocatively and let themselves be objectified by men on a level that makes it completely obvious to everyone but them that they have very little self respect.
Don't get me wrong, this is not an attempt to attack individuals that have low self esteem. We all have it or have struggled with it at some point in time in our lives. And as someone that struggles with a mental illness, because that is what anxiety is, I do not want to suggest that individuals that struggle with this issue on a debilitating level are weak.
And I guess that's what I don't understand. I knew I was having problems and what those problems and my attempt to deal with them on my own were yielding me. And it wasn't good. So I got some help. And I have no problem being transparent about that because I am not ashamed. Getting the help I did was one of the best decisions I have ever made and I thank God for bringing me that relief.
What I don't get is how individuals in situations where they are being put in danger and have a quality of life that in shaky, uncertain, and more a cause of pain (physical, emotional or otherwise) than anything else, will not take the hard steps to do what they need to do to change their circumstances. All I can figure is that they think they are not worthy of something better. That they either aren't worthy of it or aren't capable of ever finding it again. So they settle. They settle for pain, abuse, and a quality of life that is beneath them. And all because of a intrinsic lack of self respect and love for who they are.
Not only do I not get it, but it makes me so incredibly sad. Because at the end of the day, I can take a pill to help me manage my anxiety, but there isn't a pill out there that can help someone manage to love, even when it is just to love them self.
Brilliant, as always.
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