Loving myself has always been a problem for me. I was chubby and with a "weird" family, I had a tendency to wander in my own world because the one I had wasn't all that fantastic.
My father was never home, my mother was a drunk (and an angry spiteful drunk that took it out on the person closest to her, i.e. me) and I was in the middle.
Add to this a blossoming bipolar and you have not the most stable and nurturing environment.
The fact is that 20/30 years after that I am not yet over my childhood. I keep dreaming my mother, busy taking away my father's love from me and hating me. Even in the dream I can feel the hatred.
I spent 3 years of my life trying to make peace with her and I thought I had , but I haven't. For every step towards self love there is a step back in my terrified immobility, the immobility she condemned me to. She and this shitty illness. Since I found out I am bipolar, things have been worse. I am so afraid of making the wrong choice, to scare people, to behave in the wrong way. Yesterday I was calm at work, but only because I have been thinking about this hypomaniacal episode and tried to focus on myself. That meant to go back to my immobility, but I feel positive, as if this is a moment that I need.