My negativity blanket.

When I was little I used to carry around a plastic baby doll bottle, the kind where it looks like the milk is emptying when you tip it over. I don't remember this, but family lore shares that I was quite attached to this bottle- once having broken it my mother had to immediately go to the store to purchase a new one, for fear I would never stop my dismal tantrum. I guess it was a security object for me, like my little brother's "Bunny" or my cousin's "Old Yellow" (a blanket affectionately named for it's well-loved and tattered appearance).

As it is basic human nature to want to belong to a group, to feel that we are never alone, that we are part of something, that we are protected and safe, it is a natural occurrence that children create their own soothing forms of security.

Many people do not realize that adults never really grow out of having a security object, though it may change over time and become an idea rather than a tangible object. Some adults are glued to their email- the security of constant communication. Others find security in their sexuality and youth through infidelity. Some adults chew their hair or repeatedly get tattoos as a way of self-soothing. For me, my over-analyzing negativity is my security blanket. A blanket, that lately, many people are trying to tear away from my grip.

Sometimes I want to embrace negativity, to dwell in the delicious comfort of skepticism and doubt, allowing potential melancholy to shroud around me like the comfort of swaddling a newborn. Thinking about the worse thing that could happen is not a way I self prophetize, nor is it meant to drag my soul into a pit of depression, rather, for me, it is a comfort, a way my soul and heart communicate to know that whatever happens in a given situation I'll be okay, broken hearts will mend and tears will dry up. In short, to get my plan B...C...D...and E... in order- should I need to use them.

Perhaps if I did not have a strong sense of spiritual comfort, I would be like so many others who let negativity and depression eat away at their life energy, never to recover. I do see the glass half empty, but I still appreciate the half that is there. I still strive to fill up the glass, and try not to take even a single drop for granted. If in the process of filling up my cup I take comfort in a quiet reflection and oppugn wrap, is it really a problem?

My negativity blanket is the jumping off point to my positive meditation, my first step. If we only feel positive emotions then we are not truly whole; like the yin and the yang we must encircle all affection to really be.

For without our deepest sadness, grief, and negative thought, we equally would not know the sweetest happiness, love, and joy.