It may seem as though I’m extremely negative while reading through my writings.

That’s because I am.

I’ll own it.

I’ve grown into the negativity over the years.

It’s been doomy in my head for decades now.

In my experience, dealing with mental illness will do that.

It’s almost impossible, for me, to even see a glimpse of positivity most days.

Unless I’m masking.

Then it’s easier.

Because then I don’t really have to believe it.

It’s superficial that way.

I just need to act, or maybe just reflect, positivity in those times.

But personally, I feel like being negative goes hand in hand with active mental illness.

Not that there’s a thing called inactive mental illness.

I just mean that when I’m symptomatic, it’s like I don’t have the ability to be positive.

I don’t have a choice.

Quite literally I’m unable to think outside of my world sometimes.

I’ve talked here about my suicidal ideations before.

How they’re always present.

Always at the back of my mind.

How could anyone be positive when that’s the case?

When doom, death and destruction are just around every corner?

I feel like my mind and me as a whole, were not made to be positive.

I’m not supposed to be.

I can’t be at times.

It’s isolating to deal with the shit I have to.

And for me, the isolation brings the negativity.

The voices are always negative too.

And when I’m symptomatic they’re incessant.

And they’re never, ever positive or good.

These voices – auditory hallucinations, have been the most prominent symptom throughout my lifetime.

Making it seemingly impossible to see past them.

But in the spirit of doing something different, I’ve been starting to do guided meditations every week.

Just one a week.

This was week three.

It took some strength to start.

But I even looked up meditations of self love.

Self love affirmations.

I played the first one the other week.

I laid down on my couch.

And let the words wash over as they needed to.

I cried.

Bawled.

Through the whole thing.

Tears were just streaming down my face for the whole fourteen minutes.

The woman on the video was speaking of self acceptance, mainly.

I’ve never told myself that I am okay with me.

That I don’t hold any judgments against myself.

That I accept me regardless of the judgments.

And that I think I may even be starting to like me.

Through the mental illness and other hurdles, it feels impossible to be okay with being me.

The thought of even starting a self love meditation was so daunting.

I dragged my feet playing one.

I thought of it and then waited another week or two.

Is this going to make things worse?

Because I can’t grip around it?

Will I be able to understand what to do?

Would it calm me?

Will it be like a breath of fresh air?

It was more like neither of those things.

Like most things in life, it was a totally different option from “good” or “bad”.

It was alright.

Okay.

Calming.

Yet a little overwhelming.

But getting better.

There’s less crying as I get more under my belt.

I listened to another one last week.

And a different one this week.

The second one was a little easier than the first.

And it seems to be getting easier to listen to them.

It was still sort of in one ear and out the other.

It took years of working on myself before I could even admit that I may be likable.

Even to me.

I’ve always believed the opposite.

I’ve not just told myself that I’m a piece of shit.

But really, honestly, believed it.

And that’s where I’m currently standing.

In a sea of turbulence.

Of clashing ideas.

Old thinking vs new thinking.

Part of me is starting to be willing to change my view of myself.

Another part of me wanting to finally be in a peaceful mindset.

Yet another part of me still not willing to give a fuck about any of it.

It’s comfortable for me to not care what happens to me.

It’s cozy.

Though again, isolating.

Telling myself that I accept me, regardless of faults or issues, is a whole different game.

It creates a whole new way for me to think about myself.

New paths.

New connections in my mind.

I never had the capabilities to see this far before.

It’s a very foreign and uncomfortable feeling to be nice to myself.

I know that may sound odd.

But it’s my truth.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg in regards to my negative way of thinking.

– Keren