Learning to Love Myself, Schizoaffective Disorder and All

Even though March is a hard time of year for my schizoaffective disorder, I am focusing on learning to love myself. Besides, I also tend to benefit from taking on new projects. After all, it is seven years ago this March that I quit smoking. So, this spring, I’m taking on the project of self-compassion. And learning to love myself is proving to be more difficult than I first thought it would be.

Learning to Love Myself Because I’m My Own Best Friend

My therapist has been talking for a long time about how I should “talk to myself as if I’m my own best friend” to learn to love myself. I’m finally taking her up on it. Again, it’s difficult to get out of the habit of berating myself. However, slowly but surely, I’m getting the hang of it.

Something happy and exciting happened in my life recently, and I decided to do a little shopping to celebrate. My husband Tom and I went to a local mall and I bought a few new lotions. Rubbing lotion on my hands and body is one of my favorite ways to self-soothe and relax, and is an all-around key element in my self-care. The grand total in cost for the lotions was a little more than I’d hoped to spend, but instead of shaming myself for wasting money, I told myself that I deserve to splurge every once in a while. Then Tom and I got milkshakes.

When something challenging comes up, like cleaning my apartment after months of neglect, I tell myself that I am strong and I can do it (that's one way I'm learning to love myself). Tom and I did a little cleaning this weekend. We didn’t put much of a dent in the messiness of our home. Still, I told myself that we did the best we could—and at least we did some cleaning. So our home is better off than it was before.

This Schizoaffective Is Doing the Best She Can -- I'm Learning to Love Myself

I remind myself a lot that I’m doing the best I can. Sometimes, when I get upset, I wail to the closest person, “I always do my best and it’s never good enough!”

Well, my schizoaffective anxiety and I are the only ones for whom it’s not good enough.

I don’t know where I picked up this idea that I’m not good enough. But I know I’m far from the only person who suffers from this notion. Sometimes I even shame myself for not being nice enough to myself.

One big problem is that I don’t trust myself. When I lock up my apartment before going out, I have to check doors and the space heater several times to sear into my brain that everything is okay. But by being kinder to myself and talking to myself as though I’m my own best friend, I’m reprogramming my brain and learning to love myself.