Self-hatred

I see every flaw in every virtue, I see every unknown in every answer, I see all questions in the shadow of knowledge, I see life as short yet I do not believe in its end, I see life as empty yet I resist for its continuation, I see friends as a blessing, yet I struggle to engage with them, and I see people as barbaric, hence I avoid meeting them. I see every mistake no matter how abundant the correctness, I see every incident no matter how minimal the injuries, I do not see myself, but rather, I see a mass of flaws, a mass of sins, a mass of criticisms, a mass of hatred without a source invading my days.

So I spend my days, blaming and rebuking myself, as if I am wrestling with myself, as if I am my own enemy, as if I do not love myself. Thus, the notion of self-love seems absurd to me. However, what I fear is that it could be a weak point that feeds into the major weakness. The former, being self-aggression, and the latter, being the cause of my own misery. How many individuals have I seen being the cause of their own misery and thought to myself, why would they do that to themselves? And yet, I did not know, and all the answers were within my grasp. But I did not see, I did not see that the aggression comes from within, I did not see that every drop of blood shed was from my own hands, and every tear shed was due to the horror witnessed by my mind's eye. For my mind saw me, and my heart saw me too, yet I did not see either of them. Instead, I saw a shattered being unworthy of salvation. A being, discarded and not healed, dead yet not alive, hurting yet not hurt, a being decreed by fate with a charred black pen that it was born broken and shall live broken, born miserable and shall spend its days miserable, born extreme and shall remain alone, born alien to every known form and shall remain alien to every known entity. All of this is nothing but a small glimpse of self-hatred. Do you hate someone with that hatred that if you were alone with them and their abhorrence, would you kill them? Would you destroy their existence? Wish for their life's ruin? Delight in their tears? Gloat at their downfall? And what if that hatred was directed towards yourself, and you were alone with that hatred alongside the abhorrence day after day, what would become of the abhorrence? And this is what has become of me...