I harbor a deep resentment towards my life. I detest my very existence, from the way I walk like a buffoon to the sight of my decaying teeth, so with my lack of decorum. In essence, I hate who I am, and I have a nagging suspicion that those who lay eyes on me feel the same way.
Living the life that is supposed to be a divine gift, as my high school teacher once preached, feels like an impossible task. I despise the fact that every day is a struggle to find suitable clothing without any holes or tears. I also often go without food for days, and I barely have the energy to brush my teeth, let alone the enthusiasm to tend to other aspects of my hygiene.
I have put in my best efforts to improve my life, even to the point of sacrificing myself. But still, my self-hatred only deepens with every passing day. I keep blaming myself for trying too hard, as if it is somehow wrong to do everything in my power to improve my situation.
One day, I reached the breaking point, and I turned to God for help. I begged for help, asking if He would be willing to share my burdens with. I had heard from my high school teacher that God is the ultimate alleviator of burdens. But, my pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears, and my disappointment knew no bounds.
Despite my frustration, I realized that I needed to readjust my expectations. Perhaps God did not want to alleviate the burden of someone as unworthy as me. Until that day arrives, I resolve to continue living, at least, one day at a time.
