Why do I still hate my younger self?

Post Reply New Topic

Like, seriously, this is the kind of question I want to be answered in order for me to move on.

It's like this: if nothing bad had happened to me, would I have had a lower tolerance for stress, so the pangs of conscience I felt, would I not choose to ignore them like I did?

Last edited by aja675 on 11 Jun 2017, 12:37 am, edited 1 time in total.

It's just that: out of all the five stages of grief, I'm currently going through bargaining.

I am the same way. I absolutely disdain my younger self. I was such a nuisance back then.

We are all stupid in our own right. We have one hell of a climb to do that is for sure. My aspie friend at school keeps messaging girls we both know, whining about how he is a virgin. You ain't any worse than this guy just move on and forgive yourself, we all do dumb things and we gotta learn from our mistakes.

Like, is there that possibility?

Do you think that's possible?

What I mean is, I used to be able to have a low tolerance for stress in that if I found that something was hurting me, I would be good at letting go of it. Now, I kind of have a high and a low tolerance for stress at the same time, like, I get impatient a lot and yet at the same time, when there's negativity in my life, I react to it like this:

I believe that if you went back in time and changed things enough, that things would have gone good for me, that's what consoles me.

Last edited by aja675 on 11 Jun 2017, 8:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.

This got deleted last time. Try again -

Oh fine. I saved it but I can't find it.

Briefly - if you can look at your childhood with your adult perspective, you may be rewarded. I was. for that reason I want to tell you about it

Dr. Weiss - childhood memories - CD - Amazon

I also hate my younger self. When I was 10, I talked about my special interests all the time and I got scolded by my mum for doing so. During my first month of Grade 8 at the age of 13, I wore the same Beatles pin to school each day and made up a dance called The Beatle. My bullies never let me forget it, either. The reason I hate that part of me is because my mum was so nasty about it and she scolded me with words that cut like a knife. I gave up on all of my dreams and entered the first stages of Hippiehood the summer that I was going into Grade 10. I was 15 at the time and my dad told me that there were lots of things normal people cold do that I wold never be able to do and part of it was because of my autism. I hated the way that I was at the age of 19. I had a bit of an attitude problem and if any of my favorite colleagues who were in my college programme told me to give them a little space, I had a bit of a mean streak towards them. I called a German guy a Cockney a couple of times, not knowing that his last name wasn't British. I feel like a complete ass looking back at that. There was also that day that I came into work dressed like The Kinks were on stage, the better half of 1964 to prove a point to my workplace bullies that I was no longer a hippie. They never picked on me once, after that - but you don't go into work dressed like your favorite rock band. I was working in a factory and I'm also amazed that I didn't get fired for that. I was 21 at the time.

Cockney Rebel - I'm sorry you've got those things bothering you. As I read it, I saw the Cockney Rebel that I've come to know here - the Rebel part! You didn't cave and hide under a toadstool. Reading your message put me in mind of Keith Richard's Autobiography. Have you read it? He was bullied by the teachers at school. But he, too, was a rebel (no kidding).

Your message put me so much in mind of how he got back at his teachers - he wore hot pink socks! There was nothing they could do. The following week he wore yellow socks. After that he wore one pink, one yellow. The tenacity of the man - er, child.

I was reading your message and Keith's pink socks came to mind. There's something there that is like you, somehow.

It's a delightful book.

I'm not beating myself up for that specific mistake because I'm so over the guy who shouted at me, but I posted it because it was a recorded example of my stupidity. The thing about me was that there was lots of evidence right in front of me telling me that there was something wrong, but I chose to ignore said evidence. I used to have this mentality that anybody who was telling me I was wrong was an obsessed hater, hence my violent reaction when I got blocked and shouted at. Yes, I wallow a lot in pain, but I'm just doing the opposite of what I used to do: being too positive when there was negativity right in front of me. I know I'm being negative, but I know that I'll get over my problem when there'll finally be enough social distractions in my life, and there aren't enough right now, but someday there will be. I mean, when I was still not over the guy I was talking about, I wallowed in negative thoughts too, and I genuinely was unable of not thinking about him, so any attempts to think positive and forget about him failed. OK, so this convo is really not about him, but more about how much I hate my younger self, how I'll only get over the past when I finally have a social life, and how you only get over things when you find a distraction from them. BTW, here's a song that reminds me of my younger self because it's about a grotsky little byotch who doesn't learn, lives in a fantasy, messes around without thinking twice, and wears a disguise.

When I look back, I am embarrassed about how I liked certain famous people who I thought were nice, but turned out to be complete jerks and worse. I think about what a lousy judge of character I was.

When I look back, I am embarrassed about how I liked certain famous people who I thought were nice, but turned out to be complete jerks and worse. I think about what a lousy judge of character I was.
____________________________________________________________________________________

yes likewise

except they were not famous

they were precious lil "people" that i personally stupidly made the mistake of interacting with

and then i realized that, (this might have to do with autism) i am very bad at deciding whom to trust

and now i am 34 years old

and i am. my brain is. my body is.

much weaker, slower, more lazy, and tired. exhausted. and fatigued. than it used to be.

and i was never that great in any way, shape or form in the beginning

that i pretty much just avoid everyone nowadays

just functional interactions

like financial transactions

or if they approach me

but seriously though

that's the thing.

exactly.

precious lil "people" could hrrt me, immediately, profoundly, and permanently. without skill, intention.

but for someone to "help" me takes time, money, energy, skill, outcome, and intention.

for example, a driver could easily run me over with a car. it could be just not paying attention briefly. and not paying attention is an easy and innocent thing to do.

and once someone has run me over with a car, it takes a bunch of medical doctors, a lot of time, skill, and energy to physically repair my worthless corpse. and, no matter what they do, my worthless corpse will never function as well, physically, as it did before the car crash. and my worthless corpse never functioned well in the first place.

As the OP (who created a new account after an accidental ban), let me just say that I don't hate my old self for merely making mistakes, I'm really just preoccupied with the fact that I made most of my mistakes because I ignored my instincts. Imagine that a man with a gun threatened to kill you but told you that he would spare you if you buried your real self inside and pretended to be someone else. That's how it felt to me. If I made mistakes but I stuck to my own guns and made them as myself, I wouldn't have this kinda attitude. I did so many things wrong not because I was inherently stupid, I only did said wrong things because I thought something like, "Your carefree childhood is over, your life is too different now, different standards apply now." I had a good childhood, so deep inside, I knew what it was like to be happy and sane.