In 2013, I was in a terrible relationship. I started analyzing myself and the situation (through writing, because that’s how I’ve always processed emotions and information) and came to a conclusion back then that our relationship choices reflects how good or how terrible we are as a person. Written on 29 November 2013.

I am trying to count the number of times well-meaning friends have been telling me (for the last couple of months) “You deserve someone better.” I am also trying to count the number of times I have fumbled for the right thoughts, the right words to explain myself. To explain why I’m settling for an unsettling situation. Have I gone stupid or just plain mad?

These words once written by Susan Sontag in her journal: “Being in love means being willing to ruin yourself for the other person.” Have I taken that to self-preservation-defying levels? Months ago, before I’ve allowed myself to fall madly in love with [redacted], I knew the relationship would be to my own ruin. Yet, I gave in. And here I am right now in what appears to be a self-sabotage, potentially saying goodbye to what I’ve envisioned for my future self.

“You are a good person with so much honest love to give. Why can’t you go for those who can do the same for you?”

I feel like the whole world is rooting for me to run to safety, to run as far away from [redacted] as possible. I feel like the whole world wants what’s best for me, the whole world, except for me. Thus, this leads me to this one theory about myself (I’ve formed many theories, and this is one of those): that deep in my subconscious, I have this self-loathing that is so vile, that I go for those who will destroy me in the end. I’m writing off people’s theory that I have a self-esteem problem (“You look down on yourself that you think you don’t deserve anyone better.”). Maybe I really am settling for someone who can demolish every single thing that I have built for myself because I hate myself.

“You are really not a good person if you are not good to yourself.”

Those words were sent to me by my friend as a reminder. It felt like a slap because it is true. I know that it feels good when I get to help others. But why can’t I do myself the same favor? Maybe I really am innately terrible, and I only help others for myself and not for them.  Maybe based on the (horrible) relationships I choose, the main purpose I have created for myself (unconsciously?) is to destroy. And this sick, inexplicable self-annihilation is just a beginning of a destiny that I have always been unaware of: to create carnage and chaos for those around me. Maybe, I am really evil and I am just unaware of it.

© Rhea Catada