I’m just going to put this out there. I have gained some weight. Admittedly, not a huge amount but enough that I notice the extra lumps and bumps, the less give in my pants, the tighter fit around my derriere. It’s the kind of weight that leaves me wearing sweat pants more frequently than I ought.
So yea, it hasn’t been a lot of fun. Actually, it’s been kind of depressing. And when I’m depressed, I go into my not so favorite mode: self-loathing.
Wikipedia describes self-loathing this way: Self-hatred (also called self-loathing) refers to an extreme dislike or hatred of oneself, or being angry at or even prejudiced against oneself.
Though Wikipedia isn’t the most reliable of sites it’s accurate as far as how I’m feeling about myself these days—extremely disliking myself, being angry, even prejudiced against myself.
Self-loathing is nothing new for me. In the past, it’s been something I’ve excelled in. Back in the day, pre-diagnosis, it manifested itself in many ways. One of my least favorite phrases repeatedly banging out in my head? “You’re so stupid. You’re so stupid. You’re so stupid.”
The thing is, self-loathing has never done me any good. It’s certainly not helping me now. It’s not making me eat healthier. It’s not improving my outlook on life, and it’s definitely not making my pants fit better. It’s just weighing me down—more than the extra pounds, really.
2 Corinthians 7:10 says, “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.”
The thing is when I’m practicing self-loathing I’m not practicing godly sorrow, because, you see, godly sorrow leaves no regret. No regret over that extra piece of chocolate cake, or that extra helping of chips, or forgetting to work out today. It’s not that I don’t need to learn self-control, it’s that I need to learn to stop hating every bad decision I make and, in the end, hate myself.
Godly sorrow leads to repentance with no regret.
God doesn’t loathe me. He doesn’t loathe every bad decision I make. He loves me. So me loathing myself isn’t healthy, it isn’t true, and it isn’t right.
My grandpa used to play a “game” with me called, Stop Hitting Yourself. In the game, he would take my hands in his, make fists out of them, and pretend to hit me, all the while saying, “Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself. Why are you hitting yourself?” Though I hated the game, nevertheless there’s a good lesson hidden in it. I need to stop hitting myself.
Are you practicing some downright mean self-loathing? Stop it. Stop it. It’s not doing you any good. In fact, if you’re anything like me it’s only making everything worse.
If you’ve got some things to fix, things to get right, then get before God and start fixing them. But get with God first, because part of turning things around is getting power from the only Source who can truly fix things, truly redeem things, Jesus Christ.
And while you’re at it, stop loathing yourself, stop playing the hitting yourself game. Remember that God certainly doesn’t loathe you. He loves you. Find the truth and beauty in that statement and live in faith, not in fear.