Mental Silence: Escaping Toxic Thoughts, Future Fears, and Mental Fatigue

Book Title:
Mental Silence: Escaping Toxic Thoughts, Future Fears, and Mental Fatigue

Author: Vahid Zekavati
Copyright: Radio NLP

Chapter 1:
Why Is Our Mind Always Noisy?
(The Secret Behind the Inner Voice)

Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night, with no incident, no noise—just perfect silence surrounding you—yet your mind feels like a loudspeaker turned on in the middle of a city square, producing sound without pause? A voice that won’t let you go, asking questions, offering answers, warning you, analyzing, and even arguing with you.
Where does this inner voice come from?
Why does the mind engage in endless internal dialogue even when no real threat exists in the outside world?

The human mind is a deeply complex and ancient structure, shaped by millions of years of evolution for one primary goal: survival. The brain of early humans had to detect the slightest signs of danger and respond immediately. A shadow in the dark, an unusual sound, or even a subtle change in smell could signal a life-threatening threat. For such a brain, constant alertness was essential. Over time, this mechanism became part of our memory and biological reactions—a system still fully active in the modern brain.

Today, although we are no longer facing attacks from wild animals or struggling with food scarcity, the same internal defense system is still at work. The mind keeps scanning for threats—even when none are present. It’s as if the brain has not yet received the memo that the age of danger is over.
This phenomenon is the root of the constant inner voice we experience—what we call the mental monologue.

Mental monologue is essentially a psychological reflection of the brain’s alert system. In an attempt to protect us, the mind creates imaginary scenarios, simulates hypothetical threats, replays past conversations, and projects uncertain futures.
This ongoing activity is born from the brain’s relentless effort to control its surroundings and stay prepared for threats. But in today’s world, where most threats are emotional and not physical, this mechanism has become less of a shield and more of a source of inner chaos.

The human mind does not trust silence. For a brain conditioned over centuries to expect noise and danger, silence feels like emptiness, neglect, or vulnerability.
So even in moments of stillness, the mind automatically starts to produce sound. These sounds are not merely echoes of memories or forecasts of the future—they are unconscious survival attempts.
The mind would rather keep you in fear than leave you unprepared. To the mind, fear is safety. Because it believes that if you stay worried, you stay ready.

This unending noise is generated by the part of the brain that reacts to the unknown. It sounds like our own voice, but in reality, it is a mechanical reaction trying to protect us.
And yet, we mistake this voice for our own identity. That confusion is the root of much of our psychological suffering.
Instead of simply observing the voice, we identify with it. We believe it. We obey it.

But the mind is not the source of your being. It is just a tool—a danger detector and experience processor. When the mind takes control and shifts from interpreting reality to defining it, the noise it produces begins to sever us from our inner stillness and the present moment.
The more we listen to these voices, the less we hear our true inner voice.

Understanding that this noise is coming from the brain—not the soul—is the beginning of freedom.
The voice of the mind is not you.
You are the silent awareness that listens to it.
You are the witness, not the speaker.
You are the quiet field in which the noise echoes.
And from that recognition, a doorway opens toward inner silence. A silence not born from the absence of sound, but from the understanding of its source.

Once you recognize this distinction, you no longer need to fight your mind.
You simply watch it—without judgment.
You listen to it—without reacting.
And in doing so, you realize: the mind is merely the loudspeaker of the past and future.
And you exist only in the present moment, where truth resides.

Chapter Two:
Where Do Toxic Thoughts Come From?
(And Why Some Never Leave)

Have you ever wondered why certain thoughts, even if you don’t want them, cast a shadow over your mind every day?
Like a single sentence from your father, a glance from a teacher, a comparison from friends, or a bitter judgment in childhood—how do they still live with you in adulthood?
The sound of those moments is sometimes louder than the voice of now. Even if that person is no longer in your life, you still hear their voice. You still carry the feeling of shame, worthlessness, or fear.
Why?

The human mind functions like a highly precise recorder. But this recorder doesn’t just store pleasant sounds. Sometimes, the most painful moments leave the deepest marks in the brain.
In childhood, the brain does not yet possess full tools for analysis and logic. It accepts everything directly and without a filter. So when a disappointed parent, an angry teacher, or a cruel society says something, the child believes it wholeheartedly. Not because it’s true, but because they lack the ability to reject it.
Toxic thoughts are usually those beliefs that have penetrated us from the outside. Beliefs we never chose, but have lived with for years.

For example, when a mother says, “You always make mistakes,” or a father says, “You’ll never amount to anything,” or when at school you were mocked for expressing your feelings—
The child’s brain, in order to survive, takes all these messages seriously. Because for a child, social acceptance equals survival.

Years may pass, but that inner child is still alive. Still waiting for someone to come and prove those messages wrong.
But most often, we keep replaying those old tapes ourselves.
Why?

Because pain is familiar. Because the mind trusts what has been repeated.
And today, social media fuels that replay. Every time we see someone more successful, more beautiful, or seemingly happier, that old voice inside awakens and says:
“You’re not enough.”

Toxic thoughts are not merely signs of a sick mind. They are the remnants of wounds once ignored. And no wound is healed by being forgotten.
They want to be seen. They want to be heard.

As long as we try to erase them, they spread—like a stain that only gets wider the more you rub it.
But when we approach them gently, without judgment, with respect, their voices gradually fade.
Not because they’ve vanished, but because they’ve been understood.

The solution is not to run away from the mind.
The solution is to observe it.
Not with anger, not with pity. But with curiosity and honesty.

Sometimes the voice of a toxic thought sounds like someone who left us years ago.
But this time, we are the ones meant to let go.
Not of ourselves, but of that belief that no longer serves us.

Toxic thoughts are not so much enemies as they are signs of old pain finally speaking up.
And if we can understand their language, they won’t need to scream anymore.

Understanding toxic thoughts is the beginning of a conversation.
A conversation with the mind that has been alone for many years.
And perhaps, the first step toward calm is not silencing the mind—
But listening to it, without judgment.

You are witnessing the replay of a life.
A life perhaps stuck in the past.
But now, you are no longer that child.
Now, you have a choice.
You can listen.
You can understand.
And slowly, you can allow the old voices to fade.

Not by fighting them, but by embracing them.
Not by rejecting them, but by accepting them.
And this… is the beginning of freedom.

Chapter Three
Why Can’t We Believe in Hope?
(And How to Find It Again)

Sometimes, when someone smiles and says, “Everything’s going to be okay,” something inside us tightens.
A nameless lump in the throat. A bitter smile.
Or maybe even anger.
Because we’ve heard “It’ll get better” too many times and it didn’t.
We’ve waited too long and nothing arrived.
And now, our mind tastes the word “hope” like a bitter lie.
Why?

The human brain is designed for survival, not optimism.
When you’re hurt repeatedly, your subconscious builds walls.
A mind that has tasted despair over and over begins to scrutinize every positive sentence with doubt—
Not out of weakness,
But as a survival mechanism.

Sometimes, it mocks those sentences.
Sometimes, it dismisses them entirely.
That doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means your brain is alive.
And it’s trying to protect you—
Even if it has to view the world through a darker lens.

Many of us grew up in cultures that confused hope with fantasy.
Phrases like “God willing, it’ll work out,” or “Just think positive,”
Have for years swept real pain behind curtains of denial.
And when those promises failed,
The mind learned that hope means indifference.
It means escaping reality,
Closing your eyes to the wound.
But that is not what hope truly is.

Real hope is a form of courage—
Not a dreamy feeling.
Real hope means seeing the darkness,
And still choosing the light.
It means accepting failure,
But refusing to remain there.
It means saying:

“Yes, things are hard.
But I still want to move forward.
Not because I’m naïve,
But because a spark inside me still burns.”

If you’ve lost your belief in the future,
Maybe it’s because no one ever taught you how to find real hope.
Because most of what you saw was either denial or empty promises.
Now it’s time to redefine hope—
Not as daydreaming,
But as an inner and mental skill.

The first step is to tell yourself:
“I have the right to feel hopeless.”
Because your wounds are real.
But in that same breath,
Remember this too:
“I have the right to hope again.”
This second part is your birthright.
Even if you’ve been buried under collapse again and again.
Because you’re alive.
Because you’re still breathing.
And as long as you’re alive,
There is space for meaning.

You cannot command the mind to be hopeful.
You have to train it.
You have to reintroduce it to reality.
You have to show it that hope is not a lie—
If it’s planted in the soil of truth.

Healthy hope does not shut its eyes to pain.
It looks at it.
Touches it.
And then, in that same soil of suffering, it plants the seed of movement.

Practice finding just one sign of light each day.
Not because everything is good—
But because everything is changing.
Even the darkness.

Practice not hating the mind that has lost hope.
Listen to it.
Ask it, “Why can’t you believe that something better is possible?
What did you lose?”
And then, like an old friend,
Gently place your hand on its shoulder.
Say, “I understand you.
But let’s try again—together.”

Hope returns.
Not overnight.
Not through one magical sentence.
But through small daily choices.
A step forward.
A quiet moment where you allow yourself to imagine a future—
Without denying the past.

Hope is not delusion.
If you listen to it.
If you don’t deny the truth.
If you understand that the strongest kind of hope
Is born from the deepest pain.

Hope is a daily choice—
Not a feeling,
But a practice.
A practice of seeing again.
Of rising again.
Of rebuilding what once collapsed.

And if you still can’t fully believe in it,
That’s okay.
Even the simple fact that you’re reading these words means
There’s still a faint spark inside you.
And that spark—
That’s hope, still here.

Chapter 3:
Why can’t we believe in “hope”?
(And how to find it again)

Sometimes, when someone smiles and says: “Everything will be alright,” something inside us tightens.
An unnamed lump. Or a bitter smile. Or maybe even anger.
Because we’ve heard “it’ll be fine” so many times and it wasn’t, we’ve waited so long and nothing came, that now our mind tastes the word “hope” as something deceptive.
Why?

The human mind is designed for survival, not optimism.
When you’re hurt many times, your unconscious builds walls.
A mind that has tasted despair repeatedly, in order to protect you, evaluates every positive sentence with doubt.
Sometimes it mocks it, or deems it worthless.
This isn’t a sign of your weakness, but a sign of a living brain trying to stay alive, even if it means seeing the world bitterly.

Many of us have grown up in a culture that confused hope with imagination.
Sentences like “God willing, it’ll be fine” or “Just think positively” have, for years, hidden pains behind the curtain of denial instead of solving the problem.
And when we saw no results, our mind learned that “hope” means “indifference,” means “escaping reality,” means “closing your eyes to pain.” But that’s not the truth.

Real hope is a kind of courage. Not a dreamy feeling.
Real hope means seeing the darkness, but choosing the light.
It means accepting failure, but not standing still in it.
It means saying:
“Yes, the situation is hard. But I still want to go on. Not because I’m naive, but because there’s still a spark burning inside me.”

If you’ve lost belief in the future, maybe it’s because no one taught you how to find real hope.
Because most of what you saw was either denial of reality or empty promises.
It’s time to redefine hope.
Not as fantasy, but as a mental and inner skill.

The first step is to tell yourself:
“I have the right to be hopeless.”
Because your wounds are real.
But at the same time, remember this sentence too:
“I have the right to hope again.”
This second one is your right.
Even if you’ve been buried under rubble many times.
Because you’re alive.
Because you’re still breathing.
And as long as you’re alive, there’s a place for meaning.

You can’t make the mind hopeful by command.
You have to train it.
You have to reintroduce it to reality.
You have to see that hope isn’t a lie if it’s planted in the soil of truth.
Healthy hope doesn’t close its eyes to pain.
It looks at it.
Touches it.
And then, in that same soil of pain, it plants the seed of movement.

Practice, every day, to find just one sign of light.
Not because everything is good, but because everything is changing.
Even darkness.
Practice, instead of hating the hopeless mind, to listen to it.
Ask: “Why can’t you believe something better is possible? What did you lose?”
And then, like an old friend, gently place a hand on its shoulder.
Say: “I understand you. But let’s try again together.”

Hope returns.
Not overnight.
Not with a single sentence.
But with one small decision each day.
One step forward.
One moment of silence where you allow yourself to imagine the future without denying the past.

Hope is not illusion.
If you listen to it.
If you don’t deny reality.
If you understand that the strongest form of hope is born from the deepest pain.
Hope is a daily choice.
Not a feeling, but a practice.
A practice of seeing again, standing again, rebuilding what has collapsed.

And if you still can’t believe it, that’s okay.
The fact that you’re reading these sentences means
Somewhere inside you, there is still a faint spark.
That alone means hope is still here.

Chapter 4:
Our Body, the Victim of Our Thoughts
(The War Between Mind and Body)

Our body is the victim of our thoughts, an invisible war that flows in the depths of existence, where the mind and body, like two opposing forces, are engaged in a relentless battle. This chapter lifts the veil on this complex and deep connection and shows how our mind can become the fuel to a fire that shatters the peace of the body, or conversely, how the body is the silent language of the soul that translates the unspoken screams of the mind into pain, tension, and unrest.

Our thoughts, that endless flood flowing in the mind, never remain confined to the realm of thinking alone. Every thought, every worry, every anxiety and every mental entanglement has such power that it can penetrate the tissues of the body and affect the neural wiring.

Unclear pains in the abdomen, sudden heart palpitations, chronic headaches and repeated insomnia are often not just the result of physical factors, but a clear reflection of an inner war between mind and body. These psychosomatic illnesses are the result of those intrusive thoughts that, like a restless wave, strike the calm surface of the lake of your being and disturb the peace.

Thus, our mind rules the body mercilessly, but this rule is not one of full and conscious control, but sometimes a kind of unconscious and cruel reign, where, when negative thoughts and anxiety take over the mind, the body is taken hostage. This captivity can be felt in the unexplained shortness of breath, in muscle contractions, and in clenched jaws—signs that are the body’s language for mental screams that go unheard.

But this complex connection does not end here. We enter a domain called “body memory,” a concept which says that even if we forget a thought, the body still records and retains its reaction. As if every memory, every emotional experience, is etched not just in the mind, but in the texture of muscles, bones, and cells of the body. This body memory is what makes your heart suddenly race in stressful situations, your hands turn cold, or your shoulders become heavy and tense, without you even knowing where these reactions come from.

In reality, your body is like a book, every chapter of which tells of your mental battles, battles you might not even be aware of. This book is written not with words, but with physical symptoms—with recurring pains and the sleeplessness that turns night into day.

But the good news is that this war is not just a war—it can be an opportunity for awareness and change. Body awareness techniques help you identify these signs before they turn into a crisis.

Practices that invite you to be fully present in your body, where you can feel the tensions, take deep breaths, and break down the wall between the troubled mind and the trapped body.

These practices include focusing on the breath, gentle stretches, body scanning, and momentary awareness of the state of your muscles—practices that enable you, like an aware commander, to know the battlefield within you and take control of it.

By learning and practicing these skills, you can gradually stop the vicious mental and physical cycle. You can take care of yourself—not just with medication or physical treatments, but by turning the mind into a powerful ally that transforms the body from a victim into a temple of peace.

You must know that your body is the messenger of your mind. Every pain, every tension, every sleeplessness is a voice from you that wants you to pay attention, to calm down, and to take control. When you listen to these voices and respond to them, not only does your body heal, but your mind also finds peace, and the war that had been blazing within you for years reaches a deep and lasting peace.

Because when seeing is conscious, thought steps aside.

Chapter 5:
What Is Mental Silence? And Is It Really Possible?

Sometimes something inside you becomes calm. Not by decision. Not by practice. But a moment—sudden, without reason. Like when you gaze at the night sky and no thought is in your mind. You simply are. Without analysis. Without memory. Without future. You just look. Or when a particular sound of music, passing through the noise of life like a breeze, makes you lose track of time. These moments, though fleeting, are mental silence. The place where you exist but are not entangled in yourself.

We have grown up in a culture that sees the mind as an unrivaled king. A thought that arises must be taken seriously. An analysis forming inside must be pursued.
But the mind, as much as it is a survival tool, sometimes is also your prison. When it endlessly analyzes, judges, replays, and constructs the future… you become exhausted. And yet, you don’t even understand why you are tired. Because this fatigue is not from work; it is from thinking.

Mental silence means a moment when you are no longer fighting your mind. Not that your mind has been destroyed. Not that you have suppressed your thoughts. But just a peaceful pause. Like the radio turning off after hours of background noise. At first, you feel confused. Then, you feel light. Then something deeper than thought begins to see, hear, and feel.

Many believe this state is only possible for mountain monks or advanced meditators. But it is not so. Every human can experience a moment of this silence every day. When you are cooking and suddenly become immersed only in your senses. When you walk in the street and sunlight filters through the trees onto your face, and you stop thinking—only feeling. Mental silence sometimes hides in the most ordinary acts.

But because we have not learned to recognize it, we think we must reach somewhere to be calm. We must do something to bring silence. But sometimes silence comes only when you do nothing. Only when instead of struggling, you allow.

Is it possible to live always in mental silence?
Perhaps not.
The mind is our tool.
It must think, decide, analyze. But between these waves, there are moments of silence. And you can learn to recognize these moments, welcome them, breathe within them.

Here is a simple exercise:
Whenever you notice your mind is busy, just take one moment, one deep breath. Then listen to an external sound.
For example, the sound of a bird, the hum of a refrigerator, the wind. Just listen. Without judgment. Without naming. This is the entry point. Right here, your mind becomes calmer. And in this space, silence can arise.

Mental silence is not a destination. Not a reward. It is a reminder. A reminder that you are not just your thoughts. You are more than a mind that endlessly analyzes. And in these brief silences, you realize that awareness exists before thought. Awareness is the gentle voice heard when the mind becomes quiet.

And then, you discover that even in the busiest days, amid the harshest storm of thoughts, there is still a point inside you that is calm. It always has been. It always is. Sometimes, you just need to become silent to hear its voice.

Chapter 6:
Exercises to Quiet the Mind in Moments of Intense Stress

Sometimes they attack. Thoughts. Suddenly. With all their weight. They run through your chest. Your heartbeat rises. Your mouth becomes dry. It’s as if your brain loses itself. Tension comes, and the mind, instead of helping, turns into the enemy. It judges, repeats scenes, blames you. In such moments, there is no need to run away. What is needed is “silencing.” But not a strange or unreachable silence. Rather, a simple silence you can summon right now, right here—even in the heart of the storm.

These exercises are made for exactly those moments. When you cannot think about meditation. When the outside or inside is chaotic. Then you must use emergency exits. Doors that pull your mind directly out of the whirlpool and bring it to the present moment.

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1. Conscious Breathing

Right now, close your eyes for a moment. Place your hand on your abdomen. Take a deep breath—not with your chest, but with your belly. Let your breath go down. Then, slowly and patiently, release your exhale. Just breathe. Not to survive, but to return. Again. And again. With only three breaths, you can stop the mind because the mind cannot analyze and watch the breath simultaneously. By focusing on your breathing, you take power away from the analytical mind.

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2. Thought Stop Command

The moment a troubling thought enters your mind like a parasite, stop. Say loudly or silently to yourself: “Stop!” Then imagine your thought written on a blackboard. With an imaginary hand, erase that writing. This may seem simple, but with repetition, the mind becomes conditioned. As soon as it hears the word “Stop,” it pauses. This way, you take control again.

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3. Body Touch

When stress rises, leave the mind and enter the body. Place your hands on your arms. Gently press. Feel the soles of your feet on the ground. Put your hand on your heart. Even a simple touch can bring you back from the storm of thoughts to the realm of presence. The mind cannot create pain and experience touch simultaneously. Touch disarms the mind.

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4. Mindful Looking

Look around you. Not to evaluate, not to judge—just see. Pay attention to colors, to light, to textures. Make your eyes like a camera. Wherever you are—even in the subway, on the street, in a room, or in a crowded place—find something that calms your gaze. A leaf. A spot of light. A line. And just look. This kind of looking silences the mind because when the gaze is mindful, it pushes thoughts aside.

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5. Listening Without Interpretation

Close your eyes and listen to the sounds around you. Not the ones you choose, but those that are present. The sound of a fan. The distant noise of cars. The sound of your breathing. The sound of silence. Hear every sound without analysis, without naming. Just let the sounds pass as if they were a river. The mind cannot listen and think at the same time. When you listen, you cannot be in the past or the future. This is the miracle of attention.

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The exercises never end. But even one of them can be a breaking point. A point where you separate from the loop of mental repetition—not by force, not by blame, but with presence, with return. And this return becomes easier with every time, because the mind learns through repetition.

You are not expected to become calm instantly. But now you have tools. Simple but powerful tools—not to eliminate thought, but to stand amid thoughts without collapsing. These silences slowly train the mind—like water shaping stone through persistence.

And you, in the moment when you think there is no way out, just need to open one of these doors. It is enough to do one of these exercises in the heart of the storm. The mind calms down. And silence reveals itself—in its simplest form—in its deepest point. Right there, where you breathe again.

Chapter 7:
How Can We Tame Intrusive Thoughts Without Running Away From Life?

Let go of the war.
Not out of weakness. Not for surrender.
But because there is no enemy.

For years, we have been trained to fight intrusive thoughts. To push them away. To ignore them. To eliminate them. As if thoughts were monsters to be locked away, or flies to be shooed out of the mind with a flick of the hand. But the more you fight, the more they return. The more you deny them, the deeper they become. And you, more exhausted.

The secret to calming the mind is not in eliminating thoughts.
It is in looking.
In sitting within yourself, without judgment.
In being the observer.

The observing mind is that part of you that does not think, it only sees. Like someone sitting on a park bench, watching people come and go. It does not chase anyone. It does not shout. It only watches. This is awareness. And awareness does not scare the pain. It illuminates it. So you see that what seemed “real” was just a thought. And thought is nothing but movement.

The observing mind needs practice. Because the mind is conditioned to engage. When a thought appears, it brings memory. Memory brings feeling. Feeling brings reaction. You get involved before you realize it was only a passing cloud. But if just once, you stand still… just once, you watch the thought without reacting, something happens. Distance is created. You become the observer. And the thought is just a cloud in your sky.

You cannot hit the cloud. You cannot command it. You can only see it. And let it go.

This means letting pass. It is the art of silence.
Not a silence of muteness, but a silence of non-engagement.

You do not run away from thoughts. Instead, you no longer judge them. When a voice inside says, “You have failed,” you do not say, “No! I am perfect!” You just watch and say, “Familiar voice. You came again?” No denial, no affirmation. Just seeing.

In this seeing, there is freedom. Because you are no longer captive to that voice.
You are not that voice.
You are not even the thought you are having right now.
You are the one who sees the thought. Feels the feeling. And chooses not to follow it.

This practice becomes power. Because with every observation without reaction, the mind learns there is no need to fear. Thoughts come. But they are not meant to stay. You do not tame them by control, but by embrace. With a space that opens inside you. A place where every thought can come, stay, and leave.

And you are no longer the one who constantly fights.
You have become the sky.
Not the rain, not the cloud, not the storm.
Just the sky. Vast. Observing. Accepting.

In this vastness, thoughts become tame. Because they no longer have to be seen through shouting. They come peacefully, knowing you no longer fear them.

And this is the beginning of liberation. Not by running from life, but by staying in the moment.
Right there, where you, without judgment, just “see.”

Chapter 8:

How to Become Friends with Yourself?
(Shaping a Healthy Inner Dialogue)

Sometimes, the fiercest enemy’s voice comes from within—
Not from outside, not from strangers, but from yourself.
That hidden voice that, when you make a mistake, harshly whispers,
“I told you, you’re useless.”
When you’re sad, it murmurs,
“You deserve this.”
And when you’re tired, it laughs:
“You can’t do it anymore, just give up.”

This voice is called the inner critic—
A wounded child who swallowed the harsh voice of a strict parent,
And now repeats it to you in your own voice.
You’ve lived with it for years,
Without realizing you have an enemy inside who sounds like you, but is not truly you.

But here’s the good news:
Just as this voice was created, it can be recreated.
You can replace it with a supportive voice—
A voice that, when you make a mistake, says,
“You made a mistake, but you are human.”
When you’re tired, says,
“Now is time to rest, not to judge.”
When you’re doubtful, says,
“I’m here with you. We’ll move forward together.”

Becoming friends with yourself means learning to talk again—
Not with others, but with yourself.

To start, you must listen—
Listen to how you talk to yourself.
When you wake up in the morning, what is the first thing you say to yourself?
Before you fall asleep, how do you say goodbye to your mind?
In the midst of crises, what words whisper beneath your skin?
Write it all down.
Without censoring.
These are mirrors reflecting your old wounds—not for shame, but for recognition.

Then, it’s time for change.
Begin rewriting.
Take those same sentences and create kinder versions of them—
Not superficial motivational lies, but honesty wrapped in compassion.

For example:
“I’m falling apart” becomes:
“I feel out of control now, but I have gotten through before, and I can now too.”

Or:
“I’m always a failure” becomes:
“Sometimes I make mistakes, but I learn from them.”

This is the magic of healthy inner dialogue.
You create your words, and your words create your identity.

Another part of this friendship is returning to your inner child—
That child who cried but was never heard,
Who was afraid but never held.
Now, you can be their voice.
You can write them a letter in your journal, saying:
“I’m sorry you felt so alone. I’m here now. I’m not leaving. Whenever you want, I will listen.”

Shaping inner friendship means allowing yourself to save yourself.

In this journey, affirmations play a role—
But not just any affirmations—
Not those pretty lies,
But truths that are strong and sincere, such as:
– “I’m not perfect yet, but I am on the path of growth.”
– “I am worthy, even when I feel unworthy.”
– “I will be the safest voice for myself.”

Each time you repeat these consciously, light shines through the dark corridors of your mind.
Slowly, the inner critic weakens,
And the supportive voice finds its place.

And one day, in the middle of a crisis, a voice from within says:
“Stay calm… I am here.”

And that voice is no longer an enemy.
That voice becomes your renewed self—
The friend you have always sought, and now have become.

Chapter 9:

How to Stay Calm in a Toxic World?
(Survival Strategies in Today’s World)

The world is full of noise.
If you do not listen carefully, someone else will decide for you.
You must learn what to see, what to ignore, and when to silence the phone…
Even if that sound comes from family.

This is a truth that reveals itself more clearly every day in the modern world—
A world flooded with relentless waves of information,
The clamor of social networks,
Negative news,
And complicated relationships that sometimes feel like spiritual minefields.

In this tense environment, peace of mind becomes a rare gift—
One reserved only for those who master the art of psychological boundaries.

The impact of environment on the mind is so powerful
That it seeps into the flow of our lives unconsciously.
Every time you glance at your phone screen,
Navigating through an endless ocean of discouraging news,
Stressful messages,
And emotional reactions,
Your mind slowly drowns in the darkness of anxiety and confusion.

Unhealthy relationships, even the closest bonds,
Can drain your energy
And divert you from your inner path of calm and balance.

But this is not the end of the road.
You can rise above this state
If you learn how to build your psychological boundaries precisely and powerfully.

Psychological boundaries are not just walls—
They are an intelligent system within you
That allows you to control the inputs of your mind.

These boundaries give you the power
To consciously and willfully decide which voices, images, and thoughts
May enter,
And which must stay outside the door.

These boundaries empower you to enforce the law of mental priority,
A law that states the mind has limited capacity
And should only contain the best and most useful content.

This conscious choice, which may seem simple at first glance,
Is in fact the fundamental step to protect your mental health.

In practice, building these boundaries requires learning specific skills.

First, you must be able to clearly say No—
No to messages that pull you into anxiety and worry,
No to relationships that drain your energy,
And no to habits that bombard your mind with negative thoughts.

This saying No is not cruelty,
But an act of self-respect and protection of your inner wealth.

Second, you must learn to limit your time and exposure to social media and news,
Because if uncontrolled, these tools become psychological battlefields
Where your mind is attacked relentlessly.

Mindfulness practice is another powerful way to strengthen your psychological boundaries.

When you slowly learn to observe your thoughts and feelings with neutrality,
You give your mind the power to distance itself from unwanted emotions
And regain its balance.

This practice helps you become more aware moment by moment,
To truly live in the Now—
A place where no mental pollution can possess you.

Also, daily journaling or writing your feelings in a separate notebook
Is a powerful method to unload mental burdens
And prevent the buildup of negative thoughts.

Alongside these skills, never forget the importance of creating daily routines
To restore and recharge your mental energy.

Setting moments in your day for deep breathing, meditation, walking in nature,
Or even listening to calming music,
Allows you to step away from the noise of the world
And return to your inner sanctuary.

These moments are like fresh breezes in the desert of your mind,
Bringing peace and mental clarity.

You have now learned how to stay calm and strong in this world filled with psychological toxins,
How to keep destructive voices away,
And only allow the light of hope, inner peace, and positive energy to enter you.

This ability not only frees you from anxiety and confusion,
But empowers you to be better every day than yesterday,
Leading your life toward purpose and meaning
With a calm heart and a clear mind.

This chapter is an invitation to you
To build your invisible boundaries with love and awareness—
To create an invisible shield against external poisons
That never trembles and never breaks.

You are the master of your mind and destiny,
And you hold the secret that you can remain calm and poised
No matter how much the world shakes.

Chapter 10:
Is Living in Mental Silence Possible?
(And Now, What Should I Do?)

Mental silence is not an imaginary or unreachable destination. This silence is a new habit that grows out of daily life and takes root within your being.
Your mind, this bustling labyrinth of thoughts and fantasies, can calm down. Even in the busiest moments, that inner peace exists—you just need to discover it, reclaim it, and choose to keep it with you.
Mental silence means standing firm against the relentless noise of both the outer and inner worlds, and stepping toward a calm, strong, and awakened core that has always been within you.
But this silence does not form by itself; it requires creating a new lifestyle that embraces a calm mind—not just for a moment, but as a permanent way of living. Mental silence is like a gentle melody that you must listen to every day, practice, and keep alive with each deep breath. This chapter is a summary of the previous ones and provides a clear path toward building routines that lead your mind to continuous peace.

Daily routines are the pillars of this peace—they take you away from mental chaos and connect you to your inner self. Begin your mornings with a few deep breaths. These breaths are like guiding lights that pull your mind out of the darkness of doubt and anxiety and lead it to the brightness of present-moment awareness. Sitting in silence for a few minutes, listening to your breath, feeling the airflow in your nose and throat, or even focusing on the gentle sound of your heartbeat, returns you to yourself and gives your mind a chance to clear and organize without interference.

During the day, be sure to take several short pauses. Even 30 seconds of closing your eyes and tuning into your body’s sensations is enough. This brief return to the present frees the mind from the trap of scattered thoughts and brings it back to its center. Remember, a calm mind is not an empty mind but one filled with mindful presence and peaceful acceptance.

Nights are also golden times for releasing worries and disturbing thoughts. Before sleep, have a kind conversation with yourself. Fill your mind with soothing phrases and let go of every negative or worrisome thought like an autumn leaf slowly falling from the branch of your mind to the ground. Writing a few lines about the good things that happened during the day or expressing gratitude for small moments can be a bridge to restful sleep and renewal.

These simple, repeated routines are like raindrops softening the soil of your mind and preparing the ground for the growth of lasting peace. Mental peace means being present in every moment without getting entangled in mental stories; it means watching thoughts without letting them decide your fate.

But living in mental silence is not limited to exercises and routines. This lifestyle is a conscious choice that you repeat every day, meaning that in the face of every emotion, every disturbing thought, every external challenge, you still decide to return to inner silence. This choice is the power that makes you strong and does not allow external or internal storms to steal your peace.

Next, powerful affirmations are offered that you can repeat every day to guide your mind toward peace and silence. These phrases shine like bright lights in the darkness of your mind, reminding you that you are the master of your mind and your destiny:

I choose to accept my mind with kindness and calmness.

Every moment is an opportunity to return to silence and deep inner presence.

I am beyond my thoughts, a mindful and peaceful observer amid the mental storm.

Every day I connect more deeply with my calm and unshakable core.

In the busyness of life, I maintain the light of silence and tranquility.

My mind is a home of peace, where silence reigns.

I respect and nurture the silence within me.

Whenever my mind becomes noisy, I remind myself that I can choose silence.

By nurturing these phrases within yourself, you gain more balance and peace each day. You are no longer a slave to wandering thoughts but the ruler of your inner calm.

Living in mental silence is a journey that can sometimes be complex and challenging, yet every step promises you closer union with your true self—the bright, calm, and powerful core that has always been waiting behind the curtain of your mind’s noise.

You now stand at the threshold of this choice—a choice that can change your life’s destiny and illuminate your path toward inner peace and power. Every day, every breath, every thought is an opportunity to make mental silence your home and from there reach a life filled with calmness and full presence in every moment.

Mental quietness is no longer a wish; it is a way of living, a way shaped by each of your practices and choices. Gradually, this silence penetrates the heart of your life and transforms it into a true paradise. Now it is time to continue this path with steady steps and a calm heart, allowing silence to guide you to the deepest secret of your life.