Tatjana Patitz Quotes

The causes for my eating disorder ran along the usual lines: depression, an inability to express my rage, a desire to exert control, a desire to feel less, a desire to have my body express the things my voice could not. That, and I had gotten in the habit of believing it was better to take up less space.

People say a lot of hurtful things, but in a way, the abuse that I endured from my husband prepared me for that. The things I had been told and drilled into my head from him were worse than what anybody could say to me.

I was told my whole life, you're fat, you're ugly, you're never going to amount to be anything.

I'm very much a masochist at heart.

The wish to hurt, the momentary intoxication with pain, is the loophole through which the pervert climbs into the minds of ordinary men.

The greater the feeling of inferiority that has been experienced, the more powerful is the urge to conquest and the more violent the emotional agitation.

I used to sleep on the floor next to the bed, because I believed that I didn't even deserve a bed to sleep in. And then, one morning, a cockroach crawled onto my leg. I looked at it, and suddenly I awoke from a kind of hypnotic trance in which I had been all my life.

I suppose for whatever reason I actively welcome being put down, something which perhaps goes back to my upbringing - that accusation of not being worthy which could be laid at one's door.

What older men and younger women have in common is they are both suffering from different insecurities. She is looking for someone to make her feel safe, and he is looking for someone who doesn't answer back and is a trophy.

It's easier to get into controlling relationships when you're young because you're much more eager to please, and controlling men pick up on that. If they like to make decisions for you at the start of a relationship, it can be a warning sign.

Insecurities are about as useful as trying to put the pin back in the grenade.

I was full of rage. My self-esteem was so low that I actually slept on the floor every night, because I didn't believe I deserved a bed to sleep in.

When I was younger I felt very disempowered, very disappeared. I felt worthless, like I had no right to exist. I think a good part of my life was spent recovering from that. Pulling myself out of that.

From this haunting feeling of being not wanted, which remained a recurrent haunt through life, I found two ways of escape, both of which in changing form also persisted. One was the invention of gods, the other was personal efficiency in work.

I don't want to name names because I don't want to draw too many direct comparisons but the history of Fascism is populated by people who need to subjugate other people and elevate their status and power to a level which is supreme. Usually, any psychological study of those people will reveal a sort of lost, damaged child, who is somehow heartbroken and doesn't have any self-worth.

If I abuse myself daily, who can I love?

I failed eating, failed drinking, failed not cutting myself into shreds. Failed friendship. Failed sisterhood and daughterhood. Failed mirrors and scales and phone calls. Good thing I'm stable.

I wanted to be kicked and hit and bruised up and beaten. It became something that was an absolutely necessary part of every day for me.

I'm just trying to remember what self-respect feels like. It's a fading memory.

I don't love who I am so I'm working on a fix

Once shame touches your being at any point, even the most distant nerve is implicated, whether you know it or not; any fleeting encounter or random thought will rake up the anguish and add to it.

Who taught you to hate yourself?

When you're in your own body, you don't feel great about yourself. I don't think of myself that way.

"So you're a dom, huh? Nice." I stabbed my pancakes again. "Kinky." "You're the one who ties people up, babe."

That quality frightens me now, because I know what he told me: that I was broken, that I was worthless, that I was nothing. How many of those things did he make me believe?