Dear unknown person,

 

I saw your message scratched into the top of the metal toilet paper holder.

 

I saw your message and it reached my heart.

 

The ladies room at the grocery store was completely empty when I went in.

 

I was drawn to the handicapped stall as I always am when it's not occupied.

 

I know I'm not supposed to use it.

 

I know I'm not handicapped...

 

But sometimes, if I'm being honest here...

 

I limp a little bit on purpose and use it anyway.

 

Oh, don't give me that look.

 

It's not like I knock over people in a wheelchair to take their stall or anything.

 

Geez.

 

Anyway.

 

Where was I?

 

Oh, yeah.

 

Bathroom at the grocery store.

 

I started to go into the handicapped stall, but instead ended up going into the middle stall. 

 

 

I don't know for certain if this fact is relevant to my story here, but it feels like it might be.

 

The small stall was very quiet.

 

The entire large, tiled restroom was very quiet.

 

The subdued overhead lighting made the top surface of the silvery metal toilet paper roll holder gleam.  I noticed some words scratched lightly into the surface.  

 

I leaned forward to read them.

 

"I HATE MYSELF", someone had written in all capital letters.

 

I touched the words.

 

"I HATE MYSELF."

 

I felt the pain come into my finger tips.

 

"I HATE MYSELF."

 

I've seen those words in bathroom stalls before.

 

Sharpied or gouged out of the enamel covering of the stall dividers.

 

But this.

 

This.

 

I'm not sure exactly why...

 

...but those words, written in that way, ripped my heart apart.

 

"I HATE MYSELF."

...

 

I remember feeling that way a few times in my life.

 

Lost.  Unsure where to turn.   Unsure whether there was anywhere to turn.

 

"I HATE MYSELF."

 

I found inner strength to turn away from the darkness in those times.

But it wasn't easy.   The pit of self-hatred can be easy to fall into and the steep sides can be difficult to escape.

 

It's not easy.

 

It's really, really hard when you feel alone and when you forget there are options available.

 

"I HATE MYSELF."

 

This feeling grows so large sometimes that it eclipses everything other possibility...every other may be and might be.

 

Maybe you can hate some choices you made.

 

Maybe you can hate some circumstances you're in.

 

Maybe you didn't choose wisely or maybe the choices were made for you.

 

But don't give up on yourself.

 

Because...

 

Hating yourself fills up every corner of your being with defeat.

 

...

 

...

 

I could have taken out my own keys and scratched out those words.

 

Scratched deep and hard until the words no longer existed.

 

But the emotion of those words would still exist in the world.

 

Because we are all really, really hard on ourselves.

 

Because we are all really, really proud about asking for help when we need it.

 

Because we are human.  And all human beings fail at something sometime.  In small ways or in  spectacular ways.

 

...but...

 

Please.

 

Please, dear unknown Person.

 

Look again.

 

Look again at the things that make you individual.  

 

Don't seek to find validation in the masses...find your worth based on your deeds and actions and how you choose to live your life from this day forward.

 

Life isn't easy.

 

And you really need to be your own best friend to make it through.

 

And it can be really, really hard to be best friends with someone that hates herself.

 

Today I am sending out a prayer into the universe that this soul in torment finds peace, finds joy, finds a way to make it through life without trying to vent her pain in scratched words in the middle stall of the grocery store bathroom.

 

These words have haunted me since I read them.

 

And perhaps this post is an exorcism of sorts.

 

Or perhaps it is just recognition that in some dark days past I might have been the one wanting to scratch those very words about myself.