I came to the realization the other day that I have never liked myself.

When I was in college, I had probably the worst depressive episode I have ever had after a sexual assault. I never went to talk to anybody and I went on for almost a year feeling worthless and shouldering the blame for it. I dated a guy who was so incapable of showing affection that it was a personal victory whenever he would share it, not to mention the huge ego and the dead-end job. My grades dropped and I used to halfway joke about wanting to play in traffic on bad days, but deep down, I knew that I was approaching the point of being serious about choosing death over hating myself daily. Eventually, I pulled myself out of it. I enrolled in grad school, got married, have a full-time job. Doing okay.

But I've never been able to take a compliment, I always feel like jumping off of a bridge whenever something goes wrong because I know that it is my fault and there is no way around it. I've gone for long stretches of quasi-acceptance and being able to admit that I am good at something or even letting myself like something about my life.

But recently, I had to end a pregnancy for medical reasons. And at first, I was relieved. I'm in my mid-20s, just really beginning my career and my marriage. I wasn't ready, and apparently neither were the cosmos, because I would have died had I carried it to term.

No harm, no foul. It wasn't meant to be and I wasn't ready.

But now, I feel like a terrible person. I see my friends' children with regret and sorrow and I realize that what was in my womb could have grown to a person who shares half of my genes. His name could have been Charlie. I could have been a mother.

I feel like the worst person alive.

And then yesterday, a fender bender. I rear-ended an SUV who stopped suddenly because of a tanker truck and I couldn't see it as I came over the hill. There was no damage to the SUV and my stupid little car was damaged, but fine. But the costs of the repairs and my husband's frustration just ladled onto this self-loathing I've been feeling for a long time.

I do not like myself. I am bashfully thankful when someone tells me I am a good friend or that I am stellar at my job, but I do not believe them. I do not honestly believe I am worth something most of the time.

Whenever faced with tough times, I always go through stretches of hating and blaming myself: praying for some medical emergency that would put in a coma or severe head trauma, wishing with every molecular strand of being that I could be someone else, even vaguely considering suicide.

I somehow manage friendships and a marriage; I can laugh and forget for a little while at the karaoke bar. But even in those times when I seem normal, I am constantly seeking validation, particularly from male authority figures. I get weird pangs of jealousy over the most trivial of things and in relationships that do not merit the envy.

I finally scheduled an appointment for a week from Tuesday, but it seems like so long from now. I watched a baseball game and had a beer and was able to enjoy it, but now I am dreading going to sleep because I know I'll be trying to convince myself that I'm worth something until I fall asleep.

How do I cope with this? I've never tried to treat this. Where do I even begin?