Resident of a Town Called Self-Loathing
Birth of Clarity #47
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I spent so many years living in Self-Loathing. It was a town where everyone knew my name. I was its only inhabitant - multiple versions of me. I was the Mayor, the mechanic and the mortician. I was the banker, the baker and the barkeep. I ran the fire department, the food dispensary and the funeral directors.
The town’s welcome sign was made from a montage of embarrassing situations I’d experienced through years of drunken antics. The buildings were constructed from the hatred and harsh words I’d aimed at myself. The lands were formed from the pain of multiple relapses. The water was made from a river of drunken tears. The sky was an amalgamation of self-sabotage highlights.
I was the sole inhabitant of a town formed by crushed dreams and drunken chaos. The town feasted on my confidence, happiness and joy. It devoured my better qualities, expelling them so they wouldn’t return. It gained power from sucking out all my goodness, innocence and purity. And it knew exactly when to snare its favourite son. The town knew my weaknesses. My lows. It knew exactly when to reach out and pull me back in.
After another late-night munching down a mountain of junk food.
After another late-night drunkenly talking shit about myself.
After another late-night search for ‘the best’ porn scenes.
After another day wasted scrolling social media sites.
After another day of failing to complete my goals.
After another day spent sitting watching TV.
Every time I entered the town I could feel the pain of defeat. It caused me so much sadness but strangely living in such a place provided a sense of security. I often succumbed to the sickness of loving the town called Self-Loathing. Being its only resident meant there were no expectations of living a great life or at the very least, a good one. Being Mayor meant no fear of me stepping out of my comfort zone. Progress, potential and purpose were not in the town’s dictionary. It was a safe place for the weak-minded.
A man consumed by addiction is a lost man.
Temporarily separated from his heart and disconnected from his soul.
Led by his mind and at the mercy of his emotions.
This is no way for a man to live.
- Roscoe
It was a place created through years of self-hatred, self-pity and self-sabotage. It existed only in my head but bled out into my soul and poisoned my heart. I was the living embodiment of a sick and twisted town - one that still waits with confetti and fireworks - or should I say, carving knives and flame throwers - when my thoughts wander off into negativity. Or when life throws me some curve balls.
But while such a town provides a strange security, I rescinded my residency when I sought out sobriety. A city of self-respect has slowly replaced the town called Self-Loathing. I am no longer a stranger in my own skin. I am no longer suffocating under the surface of seemingly insurmountable sin. I am no longer broken by booze or tortured by the era of temptation.
Am I perfect? No! I experience the odd moment of weakness concerning my thoughts and actions. However, self-loathing happens far less often than it did. My sobriety has provided me with the ability to flip my negative emotions into positive energy, meaning that I am now only an occasional and reluctant visitor to the town that cost me so many years of happiness.
That being said, I am no longer complacent. Despite having over six and a half years’ worth of sobriety behind me, I still have a long way to go on my recovery journey. I battled an addiction to alcohol for 20+ years so I’m fully aware, more than ever, that I still have a lot of work if I’m to keep self-pity, self-sabotage and self-loathing from dragging me backwards.
After escaping the town called Self-Loathing through the strength of sobriety, I know that abstinence from alcohol is nothing without an appreciation for life. That’s why I will continue to exercise regularly, focus on my son’s development, read and write as much as I can and continue to stay close to AA.
I know that when I’d allowed myself to stagnate in sobriety and get depressed, as I outlined in my post about returning to AA, the only way to stop myself from returning to my old self-destructive ways was to embrace recovery once again, dive into life, find new passions and rediscover my purpose.
I hope you continue to join me on this journey.
Thank you for reading: “Resident of a Town Called Self-Loathing.”
If anything in this article resonated with you or you have any questions, then I would LOVE to hear from you:
Shout-out to Melisa, Lorna and Sheila for their recent comments on Notes.
Before you go, here are some useful articles related to today’s post:
Please check out the last post: “The Classic Article Between Articles!”
And 💜 and Restack this post on the Substack app.
Take care,
Roscoe | Birth of Clarity
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Roscoe, glad you found a better town called self-respect. I left self-loathing over ten years ago and rebuilt my new life in self-love!
This is very good Roscoe. Honest, heartbreaking, and cleverly-delivered.
Thank you for the walk through your former town. I’m grateful you don’t live there anymore 😎💪🏻🙏