Anger and Self-Disgust


This is a poem I wrote a couple years ago. I think it does a good job describing where anger and self-disgust stem from. At least in my particular experience. It’s just a free-style poem. I’m feeling better these days, but hopefully it’ll help others realize that they’re not alone, and to persevere and push through… It’ll get better.

Alas the time has spoken still
Let it last as forever will
Holding on to what could be
Now that I have broken free

Suddenly it dawns on me
I’m not quite what I used to be
They call this 'recovery? ’
I hang my head down shamefully

Awoken so abruptly
To find that I’ve lost everything
Doomed with the epitome
Of loneliness and misery

I long for my insanity
To lose touch with reality
This way I won’t have to see
The worthless waste that has become of me

I plead to God, but he can’t hear me
I don’t know, that’s just my guess
I’m not acknowledged by society
They barely even notice me

I was once the strong one
Withstanding almost anything
Most likely to succeed
Well, my ladder my have broke on me

Everything that I’ve achieved
Means nothing anymore to me
Reminds me of what I can’t be
Nothing has become of me

But all that is quite trivial
I don’t care, Take it all!
But please don’t take their love from me
My children are my everything

Drifting further away from me
Physically and emotionally
How can I be their Mommy
When they hardly ever see me


From early childhood to my mid-twenties, I lived with extreme self-hate. From the ages 12 to 17, I ran away often and was homeless. During that time, I would not have any self-confidence to express myself through the use of a good write such as yours.

Once I experienced the beauty of what is apparent in Canales work, and because I am private and will not add more details, I broke to pieces many of my mental patterns of self-hate and depression.

I was able to separate sorrow, grieving processes, etc., from depression and be comfortable in the quiet places. (Quiet Places— expressed with a random image.)

I left depression and self-hate by the wayside, even though it creeps along.

These experiences of yours are from your past and you submit this poem as a way of opening the door, to relate. However many experiences brought on from isolation, an experience to receive unconditional love from others means there is a need to love ourselves–even if we do not like what we see. That is what your poem says to me.