Do you have a voice in your head? Your own personal narrator. Don’t forget your purse, ooh that’s a nice skirt, my head hurts, what should I make for dinner, did I answer that email? I’ll sit down at that next bench…
A running commentary guiding you. Questions, ideas, reminders. Busy, busy always going. An echo of you, so constant that you often aren’t even fully aware of it. Still there when you need it, though. Working through options when you’re not sure which is right. Slowing your tongue before it spits out something stupid. It searches through your memory catalogue and sounds an alarm when you might be missing the danger. It’s useful. A comfortable, familiar accompaniment to life.
Sometimes that voice goes rogue. It’ll bark at the slightest disturbance. You drop a cup & you’re a dickhead. It starts warning off attacks that aren’t coming. Tells you everything you’re doing is wrong. Maybe sometimes you are able to make peace. You both pause, think again and agree that perhaps that assessment was too harsh. Deep breaths or a task accomplished might win the other you over. On other occasions the voice knows its right. All aspects of your life are disastrous and you are entirely to blame. The inner critic skewers you; drives a fresh hole through all your crap.
It takes training to win a battle with yourself. You must master tricky moves to quiet the bitch in your head. There must be people who manage it. I’ve yet to completely get the knack. My internal voice is spiky. She (I) love to find myself at fault. Guilt comes easy and in no proportion to the perceived sin. My head is well versed in all the hurtful language I rail against. Dismissing your own internalised ableism, fat phobia, capitalist propaganda is tougher than talking down some third party arsehole. Anyway, to a certain extent I have accepted that my silent commentary will always do this. I’ve learned to challenge the initial thought. Wrestle it into logical submission. Sometimes I win , sometimes I lose, but I expect the onslaught.
Which brings me to why I’m engaging in this session of blog therapy. Lately, the voice in my head has developed new habits. She has us on perpetual clueless alert. My warning siren is stuck on active. I can’t calm down. However, when I question the need for this hyper vigilance the know it all in my head has zero answers. In fact, I can’t find answers for much at the moment. When I request help my internal dialogue tells me it doesn’t know.
What am I scared of? I don’t know.
What do I need today? I don’t know.
What should I eat? I don’t know.
Who will I pitch this to? I don’t know.
Should I take more painkillers? I don’t know.
Is this good enough? I don’t know.
What do I want? I don’t know.
Did I say the right thing? I don’t know.
Am I ok? I don’t know.
I’ve been anxious & uncertain before. Decision making has always given me trouble. I’ve just never had such a blank in my head. There’s always been a conversation. Typically I’d scroll through all the things in my life that could be a concern. I see it through to the worst possible outcome & decide how I could manage that. Once I’ve tackled that I can be less consumed by the worry. It’s not a perfect solution, but I have some success with it.
At the moment, there is no discussion to be had. This is free floating anxiety ALL THE TIME. I wake up jittery. I lie in bed nervously trying sleep and I am on edge every minute in between. Identifying real worries has no impact. At the end of that process the voice in my head is still shouting panic! I’m not a stranger to unresolved aniexty. I have PTSD, it comes with this territory. I’ve dealt with episodes of hyper vigilance. I do react to triggering stimuli. I’ve been in the depths of unknowable depression. This just feels very different.
The barbed inner voice can usually be relied upon to give me something to work with. Even if my instincts are brutal, I have a jumping off point. Now everything is so vague. I’m stumbling around in a room full of nothing. This isn’t a period of great change. I am not attempting to make life changing decisions. I have no idea what is going on & neither does my brain.