What does it take for me to be kind to myself?

"It's so hard to walk around in this world and feel so unworthy of love on a primal level." I said to my therapist not long ago. He nodded, had an empathetic look on his face, and said, "yeah." I feel so depressed these days. A kind of voluntary intenal isolation, if you will, to cope with the sadness, grief and rage I feel inside my heart. The more painful material we drudge up in therapy, the more I become despondent to myself and the outside world. I so wish to ride and waves to come out on top that the desires bring tremendous pressure and I feel further removed from myself.

Surrender.

So I started reading Heroine's Journey again; the concept of the descent into the dark underworld resonates with me quite a bit. At a certain point in time, a woman, the books says, will start to feel a spiritual emptiness if she has only identified with patriarchal, masculine values from the outside environment and neglected to connect deeply with the feminine within. During this period of confrontation, the woman will start to become withdrawn, depressed, confused and lost to the outside world. She might choose to cry for no reason and spend endless hours on the couch, curled into a ball. She may choose to speak to no one, but wander through her everyday life in deep despair. The book speaks of embracing such periods of descent and treating it with respect. We must honor what our souls show us; when there is emptiness, it is our soul calling out to us urgently the need to go within and connect with ourselves again. Whatever that caused us to feel unloved, unworthy, or trapped in despair, it is now time to allow ourselves to start our journey into the shadow side of our being, own our feelings and accept those parts of ourselves that we unconsciously rejected long ago in order to survive.

Breathe.

What do I do on a daily basis? I read. Endless reading, books, internet, and school material. Other than that, I watch TV: many law or police shows, silly programs that are entirely meaningless but sensational, movies and movies and movies. I spend an enormous amount of time inside and rarely leave my room or Rob's room unless for going to school and the occasionally venturing out to coffee shops. I talk on the phone, late at night, with friends and family in Taiwan. I dream many strange, random dreams that many times have similar central themes. I am unforgiving towards myself.

"Sometimes I say the meanest things to myself." I told my therapist and he was so surprised; I guess I rarely say mean things to people, but I do to myself.

"I feel like a horrible person."
"Why?" asked my therapist.

Silence.

"Because I let horrible things happened to myself."

The room was very heavy at that moment, and he was very kind with me.

Critical, judgemental, rejecting, malicious almost, and entirely unforgiving. Restless, agitated, irritated, depressed, hateful, impatient and floating around, breathing shallow breaths.

I feel so ashamed of myself sometimes, and underneath that shame hides a deep, deep pain.

What does it take for me to be kind to myself?