I've been doing a lot of self work, and I realized that self-loathing isn't some singular monolithic entity: it's comprised of many different voices.
Here's part 1 of my attempt to identify who is actually talking when I tell myself that I'm the worst.

We will not go quietly into the night. Resist!

Haven't played in 2 years. Time to dust the ol' girl off.

Made myself a little charcuterie board, as is tradition.

I hate living in the timeline where I'm not offended by this.

This is gonna be my energy going into 2025.

These are gonna slay at the ugly Christmas sweater party.

Gonna take a break from the horror and bake some cookies. Just waitin' on the butter to soften.

"Now, I don't know about y'all, but I sure as hell didn't come down from the goddamn Smoky Mountains, cross five thousand miles of water, fight my way through half of Sicily and jump out of a fuckin' air-o-plane to teach the Nazis lessons in humanity. Nazi ain't got no humanity."

My secret spot.