Feeling Numb From The Pain Of Self-Abuse

I am narcissistic in that I see myself deep down as perfect and beautiful in every way, and I cannot seem to get it shown in my outer world. It kills me and I spin wildly around and around trying to get my needs.

I see this blog as a manifestation of my inner self worship and adoration, and since I am anonymous no body who sees it will ever know the real me in person and thereby be able to disprove of it or put it to the trash as unworthy. It is ultimate narcissism, because I can get everyone and myself who sees it to think I am amazing and talented and as wonderful as any other person on the planet. But I don't truly believe I am. If anyone was to compliment it, I'd never believe it and think the compliment was a lie and not for the TRUE me. I see myself as an embarrassing troll, trolling to be a human in this withering skinny, scanty body. I see myself as some kind of creepy caricature of an old geezer, shuffling through the streets trying to steal some good from the garbage bins.

Looking at that I see how narcissistic I sound. And why it killed me so much when I got called weird or described as strange. Because I truly felt that way deep inside. 

This is exactly how cult leaders gain their supply. They need narcissistic supply and adoration, and then they keep it up by subjecting others to doubt themselves, and depend on them. All the while they know they are living a lie and still feel like garbage inside. 

I have this deepseated belief that the greatest people are the ones who have all the looks and money, and successful business etc. I still can't shake it, and the feeling that I, since I do not have any of those things, am worthless and can never be great or successful in life. 

That is precisely why I hide behind the blog and do not think it is truly good, and when I see I have some readers it makes me think I fooled them and now I am becoming successful and they expect it out of me. And I feel this impending crash of doom when everyone and myself see that I am nothing and a joke after all.

I hate it, that I can't believe in myself  unless I have money, success, and perfection. But it is a self fulfilling prophecy because I feel I will never have it. So why try. I have always hated people who had beauty, success, and riches, and thought them as showoffs and egotistical. I drew a sharp line between myself and them, promising that I'd never be as "shallow" and "pathetic" as them. I knew I couldn't be great ever, so I had to put them down because I had to feel good about myself. But I don't want to be a loser anymore. I don't want to battle myself in feeling unworthy of success. I don't want this shame anymore. I don't want it for my daughter either. I don't want to hate myself anymore. It is too hard, and too hurtful. I only have one life and why would I want to throw it to the dumps just to prove some old infant belief to myself that I am worthless and deserve death.

It's funny and I've thought about this a lot, that I am my own worst enemy because if anyone else would tell me their story about how they went through similar things as I, I would feel pity for them. But for me, I have none and just have vindication for myself to do more, work harder. If anyone would write a blog similar to this I would look at it with respect and wish the person well, but me, nah I am unworthy of any admiration and my blog is pretentious and undeserving of any attention.

But I see it so clearly that it is made up, because as I just said if I saw it objectively from the outside I would applaud my efforts. So it is mainly myself whom I don't see any worth in. It is hard being your own worst enemy. I only hope I do not cause it in my daughter, and that she doesn't see this ugly trait of self-hate as the bulk of who I am.

I guess it's what I am holding onto from childhood because it's my identity, and without it I am scared of the unknown, as Lisa A. Romano speaks about. She says that your old program keeps popping up throughout your hard times in life, waiting to be seen and cleared. I have a lot to clear. Many years of self-doubt and worry about how I look to others. Many awkward weddings of trying to look but always feeling inner shame about my place in the family. Many years of trying to live up to my sister's beauty and perfection, and feeling like a soiled, soggy plant in her company. Many year of being pushed around like a football by my disruptive and troubled biological and adoptive brother, trying to salvage any ounce of dignity in front of friends and hating how hurtful and vengeful he made me feel. Years of hating my adoptive mother and feeling like she just couldn't love me. Years of her telling me that I was too focused on my feelings, and feeling worthless for my personality.