Years and years ago, I remember going to the Salt Lake Donut Co. with my Mom. They were very serious about their donuts, and made them for all sorts of grocery and other retail stores in the area. They did not sell to the public, but did allow people to come in and purchase their donut mistakes - or "cripples" as they called them. That is not a very nice, or politically correct, term today. However, back then it was just how they referred to donuts which were considered to be "seconds" (not first choice).
Those were the donuts which did not quite make the grade - something was wrong with them, and they were not considered suitable for selling to the public at large. But for a considerable discount, anyone could buy a big ol’ box of them. The secret was timing the visit to obtain the best type of rejected donuts they had (chocolate was always very popular).
I often see myself as comparable to a rejected donut - and that’s not just referring to my shape, mind you (hey, round is a shape!). No, it’s that I perceive there is something wrong with me - that I just don’t quite make the grade. The greater majority of all of the other donuts (aka: people) that I know are top shelf, first grade. Whereas I see myself as analogous to a leftover second reject.
For someone who is fairly blind (for whatever reason) to what I can plainly see in the mirror everyday -- they may happily conclude that I am okay, with perhaps some weirdness issues (as everyone seems to have).
For myself, I see a discounted misshapen donut with missing or deformed icing - and notice all the irregular bumps and cracks. I know that I can fit myself into society to a certain extent - but I do not believe that I really belong there. I do not believe that I can truly be of service to others. I do not believe I am worthy to be the recipient of service. I do not really believe others when they give me compliments. And I do not believe I deserve to be anything more than what I am... a crippled defective person (who sometimes tries to cover her, oh so obvious, faults with attempts at humor).
Currently I am working on my sad excuse for a self image, but I am certain it is going to take a very long time to alter my point of view. With lots of prayer, proper counseling, and seeking insights from good books... maybe, perchance, conceivably, in the realm of possibility... (step away from the thesaurus!)
Right now I certainly lack faith in believing I will overcome this - but hold onto the hope that eventually I will. How much does my point of view affect and influence ongoing periods and episodes of serious depression? How much does the depression affect my self image? I am not convinced it is a "which came first, chicken or the egg" type scenario -- but more of a symbiotic growth, which needs a good vaccine!
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