Chapter Four – Self Hatred

People never really think about how much their words could affect someone. Even when they feel they have the best interest, they have no idea how much their words could be poisonous to the other person.

That’s how everything turned out after that. When I felt that everything wasn’t working for me, all her words came down to hunt me, and they sent me to the darkest place I have ever been in.

Growing up I was told that God created me and that he loves me the way I am. Then down the line I hear that he didn’t create people like me because I was doing something wrong, and I was sinning and going against God. That confused me because the only thing I did was feel, how was that wrong when it came naturally?

I didn’t have answers to those questions and because of that, I only fed on the negative words that were thrown at me.

I was sick, I was disgusting, I was sinning, my feelings were wrong, I was not normal. I needed help. This was just a phase that was going to pass. But when?

Every single day those words made me hate the person I was. Why wasn’t I like everyone else? Why wasn’t I normal? Why did God have to make me feel this way if he despised it?

I pulled away from her and almost every friend I had. I’d always put on this fake smile when I saw them though, and they would smile back genuinely, not knowing that I was slowly dying inside.

I started putting on dresses and looking more at boy pictures in magazines. Of course, I’d see a man and a woman, then I’d cut them both and post them on my ‘future’ book. When asked why I had them both, I’d say she was a reflection of me. Little did they know that she was who I was looking at. She was who I’d hope to be with secretly.

I still hated myself for not being cured by prayer. I didn’t like the fact that God was letting me be this person even though he didn’t approve of it. How could he make me something he hated himself? Did he want me to go to hell?

I would cry myself to sleep with all the unanswerable questions in my head. I would wish I wasn’t born. I would wish for a car to run me over or for death to come creeping even when I least expected it. But nothing of that sort happened.

Since I didn’t want to go to hell, death seemed like the better option for me.