A few years ago, I got really depressed. Not just my usual sadness or bitchiness, but real-deal, medically diagnosed depression. One of the things that came from this bout of mental anguish was a newfound animosity of my body.
Now, I've never exactly loved my body. We're frenemies at best. But things took a real turn when I gained a whole bunch of weight and had trouble finding happiness in any of the things I used to enjoy. So, instead of feeling happy, I figured "Hey! How about I hate myself?"