Self-Hatred (Pain and Suffering for Lent)

That acid taste of despising yourself.  Perhaps in some distant day you will look back and see it as a spur to repentance and growth.  But for now it is just a bitter fire of feeling sick at who you are.

When the bells justle in the tower
  The hollow night amid,
Then on my tongue the taste is sour
  Of all I ever did.

Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God.