Sunday, 17 January 2016

Ten Times I Hate Myself.

Every now and again you may find yourself saying you 'hate yourself.' I seem to find myself saying it more and more frequently, and thought (in a mission to lower the frequency of said occurances,) that I would list the main culprits causing me to loathe, despise and utterly deteste myself on a daily basis. NB: This is of course, not an exhaustive list. It doesn't include things like when I tell people I'm going to the gym and actually end up pressing snooze 10 times,  when I text the wrong person something inappropriate, or when I let my boyfriend stick his finger up my nose in public places. (etc.etc.etc..)

1. When I eat until I'm full, and then continue to eat until I have to undo my jeans - yes in public- to stop them cutting into my bloated flesh. Then, full of shame, I will try to cover my wide open flies with a jumper to stop people seeing my Bridget Jones pants. Why didn't I just stop eating when I was full? Why, God, why?!

2. When I decide - this happens maybe every 6 months or so -  that I want to go blonde. And that the most cost-effective way to get my jet black hair blonde is to get a box from Boots for a fiver. 1 month later and I'm bored, decide black looked better, go back to black and spend the next 6 months using masks on my dried, frazzled and utterly broken hair. *Whispers* I love you, hair, forgive me.

3. When I copy and paste a magazine pitch to send to ten magazines, and forget to change the title in one of them. I envisage Sally at Cosmopolitan chucking my details in the bin as she receives an email for Sally at Tatler. Fucking hell, Sal, cut me a break. The mortifying realisation after I click 'send' is punishment enough.

4. When I'm a week away from my Lady Time and inconsolably cry into the night about absolutely fuck all. It could be a dog charity advert I saw 3 months ago, or the fact that there's no cheese in the house, or the fact my boyfriend took 15 minutes to reply to a text which must mean he's breaking up with me. In the morning I look back at myself with disgust and embarrassment.

5. When I fall asleep in public places, particularly the tube, and wake up dribbling over myself. This happens more often than one might think, and I hate myself in equal measure every single time it happens.

6. When I meet someone for the first time and that horrific situation where one of us goes for a hug and the other a handshake or kiss and it ends up being a long awkward affair of flaying arms and me apologising profusely for my lack of ability to introduce myself in a seamless manner. I'm sorry, I just don't know how much body contact is too much.

7. When I have dreams that freak me out and I wonder why my brain is so twisted. The most recent involved me dumping my boyfriend to date Dave Franco only to discover he was 17 and I was a pedophile. The morning brought much secret shame for me.

8. When I forget to pack pants when I go to the gym in the morning and as a result have to spend the whole day at work commando feeling like some sort of pervert.

9. When I tan and then come morning realise I didn't wash my hands properly after, resulting in those little stained brown V shapes between all of my fingers. Rank.

10. Any time ever in the world that I wear heels. I can't walk in them, they hurt my feet and I just need to accept the absence of sex-appeal my wardrobe is destined for and stop trying to wear them. It never lasts longer than two hours and makes my feet feel like bloodied stumps. I am a pathetic excuse for a woman, and Beyonce should shame me.


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