Hmm. My internal dialogue is complicated. I used to think I was pretty talented, but no one ever appreciated it, so I realized I must be mistaken in my assessment of myself. I turned around and became my own most vocal critic, while, somewhere, deep down, maintaining this belief that I did some things well. After a while, though, the negative voice became more dominant, and it was helped along by depression.
On the other hand, I have had mild manias where I thought I was pretty good. Unfortunately they are drowned out by the depression.
So my friend would be pretty schizophrenic. One day he would be tearing into me, and the next he might be singing my praises. He might sing my praises just enough that I would be willing to put up with the times he thought nothing I did was good enough. It would probably end up being a pretty codependent relationship—unhealthy, and difficult to save. I would feel bad about that, and that it was my fault. I would not want to give up on it, out of loyalty to my friend, and the good things in him, even though the relationship is killing me.
Of course, the fact that my “friend” is really me, it makes giving up on myself all the harder, even though I know that’s the way toward living a more contented life.
Wow! GQ, Krysta!