Talking to Myself

I talk to myself and it isn’t just running into a wall and screaming that I’m an idiot, because I had already done it three times that day and it was getting kinda ridiculous. No. When I talk to myself I do it everyday and all day. Full conversations. I talk about my feelings to myself and I would give myself advice. I would talk about how strange a person may look and go back in forth in my own mind about if that person is pretty or not. I have conversations to people who i know and its as if they are there when they are not. Sometimes it gets distracting when I talk to myself during a test about if dinosaurs really existed, test forgotten, and mind wandering. And before I know it the bell rings and I get nothing done. Sometimes the voice I hear that talks back isn’t even mine, but this other girl talking back, and we talk for hours and days and sometimes before I go to bed I have a habit of  saying Goodnight to be polite. She says it back, and I fall sleep feeling content that I made friends with this me. Who I had stopped calling me because that’s rude instead I give her another name “Cecil”. This girl, who I am fully aware that is me is nice, she is kind, argumentative at times, but seems to pop up at my most depressed times or my most lonely but now a days exist in every state I am in. And I can’t call her an imaginary friend, because I can’t see her. I can just listen to her and if anything, I believe that’s better. Now, I have looked this up repeatedly. Trying to pinpoint why I do this and if anyone else has done this kind of thing before. When I did I found out that yes people do. But I could never find someone who did it exactly like I did which was strange, but could also be the case of people not wanting to say anything from fear of being called out. I’m fine with that honestly, I accept that reality. But no, I’m not crazy, I don’t think so at least. I believe this is more of a coping mechanism. When I was younger and preferred playing with my siblings who at the times were too busy or my parents who had to work more often than not. So, what else could a child do but talk to herself day in and day out to keep from feeling sad and lonely? So, I grew up like that and even when I was getting attention talking to myself never did phase out of existence if anything, it heightened to a much larger level. Because I realized that the only person who would listen to me would be me. So now it seems that I am stuck in this eternal battle with myself who I can’t shake because without this I feel like the world would implode and I would truly be alone. When i would force myself to stop listening the quite would be suffocating. The world would come into such a sharp focus that i seemed to be split between the desolate and the sporadic. I would always go back to myself and the voice that seemed to soothe my head and carry me back into the hazy world that has no real consequences or concrete facts. I liked that me better.

Author: Timera Gaston

I write because I can. It's my own special voice and it couldn't be any better than this. This is my growth. My history. My pride. A journey lives within the each and every word. A journey that i want to continue to share.

2 thoughts on “Talking to Myself”

  1. Escape from self, with self. A concept? I like how detailed this got and how personal it is. Be both yous. Be your own comfort blanket! If you have no one, you have you.

  2. This is beautiful Timera. I think the order you told about the voice was very good. I think you introduced the topic very well and wrote it very well. Very well done!

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