I’m in a bit of a slump right now. I haven’t written much lately because I haven’t been in a good place. I’ve been feeling down about myself. I’ve been feeling insufficient.
This spring, Husband and I purchased season passes from Water Park and thought a splash of the water, a ray of the sun, the chimes of laughter would do well to get rid of the winter blues and help us relax a bit. But for me, relaxation hasn’t been the story. At Water Park, I’m dangerously playing the comparison game, and I always end up the loser. I compare myself with every girl there. Every girl who is thinner than I am, every girl who is darker than I am, or every girl who is just different than I am, becomes better than me. And I end up hating myself. I never measure up. It doesn’t matter what the other girls look like: fat/skinny, pale/tan, tall/short, old/young. I will always feel second best in every respect. I am never good enough for myself.
Yesterday was a particularly bad day for comparisons and self-hatred. I was at Water Park and because I didn’t measure up to the comparisons between myself and the other girls, I felt the commanding need to injure myself, to punish myself for not being better. Not having the “normal” tools I might need to self-injure at Water Park, I decided to burn myself in the sun. I stretched myself out on the lounge chair, opened myself up to the sun, and collected all of his powerful beams of light in my skin.
In this instance, sun burning myself was like agreeing with the world, “Yes, I know I’m inferior.” It’s as if I want the world to know that I know that I’m not good enough, I know I’m ugly. I have to put myself down before other people can do it.
The redness of a sun burn goes away, but the feeling of being secondary stays behind. I am embarrassed to be me. I know I’m hideous; I just want to say it before others can.
