To answer this properly, yes, I get 'self-loathing' days when it seems to me that everything I've ever done is shit, pointless, fake. They used to happen at times of great anxiety and life-change: the gap between sitting an exam and hearing the results, say, or, during our more recent year apart, every time Xoc and I said our railway-station goodbyes. As well as self-loathing, those Sunday Evening partings were suffused with sickly crushing guilt, my laceration of choice.
I think I'm growing out of those feelings. They tend, these days, to be confined to hangover days - and those ones have a peculiarly 'chemical' feel to them, as if the guilt arises directly from some depleted or temporarily alcohol-fucked neurotransmitter - and are generally bearable. I've never been driven to the point of trying to physically expel the badness, either by purging, vomiting or cutting, but I can certainly understand the urge. |
