I am beginning to see myself in different lights. Lights that perhaps I wasn’t ready to see up until this point. Lights that perhaps were such a part of my psyche that I couldn’t distinguish them from the reality that I saw. My long list of therapists never pursued the question of who and what I really am, again, probably because I didn’t show the necessary desire to know. I have found that now I need to know.

It isn’t always sunshine and rainbows when you began to really look deep into your soul to who and what you really are. In fact, if your journey is anything like mine then all you see is the negative. The understanding is not full of the positive and the great things that I can brag about myself but rather a series of truths that leaves you with the distinct impression that the worth you hold, the tiny pieces, are already gone.

One of the largest things that I have learned on this journey that I have been taking is that by putting off the search because of a lack of ability means that you are left with a truth that can’t be changed. Your best friends, your favorite quotes, your own therapists are going to tell you that you can change, that the person you are and have been molded to be can be changed with hard work and dedication. I say don’t waste the time; once you become defined, and the definition happens around age eight, there is literally no way to change who and what you are. And it doesn’t seem to matter how much you want it.

I think in order to be the person, the quintessential perfect person, you have to began changing at birth and finally at your last breath make that last change. I don’t believe that you can stop in the middle of this life and decide that who and what you are needs changing – even if it does. We resort to type. We live a vicious circle of karma that isn’t going to allow you to find a different truth. We live in a world where history repeats itself, and we are no less than the history that is taught.

One of the most prevalent lights that I find myself studying these days is the rather awkward truth that I am a negative person. Somewhere in my heart I always wanted to believe the best in people, I wanted to know what trust felt like, and I wanted to know if perhaps I believed hard enough I could become a happy person. But when one exams those lights the truth is so loud as to drown out all of your dreams. You can’t believe in the ability to find happiness when you are a negative person. You can’t believe in the ability to find comfort when you are a negative person. It is an impossibility tainted with those annoying cheers from people who have never seen you.

I am not a positive person. I don’t believe in the best of someone ever. My friends are always going to one day hurt me, my parents can’t love the diseased child they brought into this world, and my husband will one day figure out that in this world there are people who do feel love, who know trust, who can stand the skin of another touching theirs. I know people who can hug; and yet it is a marvelous star-gazing impossibility for me. I don’t like touch; and finally on this journey I am beginning to see in that purple light that who and what I am while built on the crushing reality of life, also is so permanently marked into my soul as to become me. The me that I am; the me that I will always be.

There are a thousand examples I could give you about my negative thoughts. But before I continue there needs to be a small note here: negative thoughts rarely lead to suicide. The compilation of thousands of voices reaffirming those negative thoughts lead to suicide. It is a difference few will know and even less are able to acknowledge. Suicide does not come from the lack of touch, it comes from the voice that tells me that I don’t deserve to be touched. My lack of touch is not my loadstone, but rather as easily explained as the brown in my eyes.

On this journey the goal while not defined completely begins with the idea that it isn’t important for me to change as much as it is important for me to recognize what is very much a part of me. I don’t need to change those negative thoughts; I need to be able to see that they are there. They aren’t going away; no matter what my therapist believes she can do. I will never find the courage or the strength to trust someone enough to even touch their fingers much less their whole being. It isn’t possible. The thoughts are here to stay. So we have to stop hitting our heads on that brick wall and simply understand the truth about ourselves.

I could write a list a thousand bullet points long about the negative thoughts I have had since I woke up this morning. I am finally hearing them after these many years. But once the words are said they become your own truth. Sure, I can say the words and then rethink them in a positive manner but all that is an exercise in futility. I think negative. And there is not a thing another person, or even my own conscience will ever be able to do about it.

I will look in the mirror for the rest of my life and see the person that my soul knows. It is not the image that my mother sees, or at least I guess that to be true, but it also isn’t an image that will ever allow me to smile. I can hear my parents arguments, their own negativity, and it becomes my own. There will never be a day when I will like myself or find in myself the forgiveness for so many things that are completely out of my control. There will never be a second that I won’t hear the voices telling me that my worth simply doesn’t exist. I will never be able to walk away from the knowledge and my own truth that there is not an ounce of worthiness anywhere in me. And you can’t change that.

Do I have negative thoughts because that was how I was raised? Do I have negative thoughts because this disease has over and over destroyed the very fabric of hope that I once so easily carried? Do I have negative thoughts to push me? Do I have negative thoughts to pull me in some direction; or is it as simply the soul that I was given.

I try to write often about topics that those with mental diseases can understand to show you all the things this disease will never be, and the ways not to give up but rather to know how to find. There are so many wishes on so many stars asking for the navigation to some place that will finally stop hurting. But I can’t make these things happy; nor can I give a hope that doesn’t exist.

I have negative thoughts and this leads to the truth that can’t be missed; they are there and they will be the constant companions until I finally am able to draw the last breath that promises the final light in this great darkness. I am not a cheerleader, never will be. I am not a part of your conscience that will finally answer the question we all have.

I am a girl who can’t touch another human. I am a girl beginning a new chapter in my life, and writing about it not for accolades but because it helps me to find my own answers. There is this song, comes from the musical Carousel, a tragic and sad life story. The song titled, You’ll Never Walk Alone, isn’t really about walking with some great love, but rather the begging of the singer to his love to simply walk on (he will be there but that isn’t the wish). That song has always given to me a sense not that someone else is out there for me, but rather I have one job here on this earth – to Walk On. To simply continue the journey and find the truth; and then take that truth and walk with it until I can’t anymore. Then I shall take these negative thoughts that I have found and finally lay down.