I am never alone. Even if I am not sitting with anyone, there’s often a conversation going on in my head. Sometimes the responding voice is my own, often it echoes things said to me by others.
It’s quite a strange thing, and actually something a little frightening to admit. Perhaps everyone else is not the same as me. Perhaps this is true craziness.
I sometimes wonder where these conversations came from. I didn’t have an imaginary friend as a child, or perhaps I did. Perhaps it was talking to me in my head too loudly for me to tell anyone of its existence. *chuckles*
Most of the time it tries to convince me it’s with me to act as an aide-memoire. I don’t need to write things down if I remind myself… “Oh… when I get home, I need to email that person… about… that thing.”, as if merely thinking it will ensure it will happen. Of course it doesn’t work that way and I remember at best a couple of days too late.
There are many other times when the voice acts as anything from a choke collar, to a whip. This is not to serve any kinky pleasures, but merely to act as their original purpose, as a corrective measure for poor behaviour. Here’s where my mind suddenly transforms into an Escher picture though. You can be following a staircase which seems to be leading upwards, only to find yourself at the bottom at the end of it. My mind does seem to be a place of post-it notes. Anything anyone has told me that either I have done to hurt or annoy them in the past, or that others have done to the same result, my mind tries to store away so that I can try to avoid making the same mistake. I am constantly trying to monitor what I say or do, merely in a bid to avoid falling into the same mistakes of my past. Sometimes I am lucky enough to stop myself, but at others I am too late, and only then do I realise I have fallen into a trap. Then starts the frantic attempts to climb out.
Recently two new friends have offered, or tried to provide a kick to my backside when I need it. This is something I struggle with, because actually I am constantly far harder on myself than anyone else could be. For me, what I need to do is be easier on myself… and yet… the voices in my head won’t hear of it. It’s a strange thing though, that we think others need a kick… or shove, when life usually is the one providing more than enough pressure to cope with. I often think it’s the small glimmers of light forced into the darkness by a friend’s smile. To have someone let you know they understand, that they stand with you and still value you. What I cherish is the hand that dives to the bottom of the Escher staircase, and pulls me back to the top with them.
I know I see things from my stilted, old-fashioned, ancient and cynical perspective, but the ones who truly do need a slap, are those who march all over others, without any awareness of their actions. I don’t think it’s me, who is constantly having to explain myself to my inner voices.
Those voices take a break at times though. It’s an interesting thing to find that music, writing and painting make them fall silent. It’s also excellent to find that when I am at work, with my colleagues, those voices take a break too. Their power is greatest late at night and early in the morning, but even then, their power can be limited. I just need to remember to turn them off!