The Loneliness of Silence

Often when I come to speak with you, my mind is overflowing with words. Ideas, heated from the friction of bouncing excitedly around my mind, come bubbling forth from me, boiling over in a seemingly endless stream of language. But today is odd. Today, my mind is empty. No thoughts fill the void as they often do, yet I am still compelled to come and talk. Usually, I speak to clear my mind and find some much needed silence. Now, here I am, casting my voice into the emptiness, trying in vain to fill the cavernous, echoing nothing with anything.

Shouldn't I just be quiet every once in a while? I know there are some who wish I would. How can I be quiet? I have been for so long. I have a lot of lost time to make up for. That's why sometimes I speak even when I have nothing to say. Or maybe it's because I think some might see my silence as a weakness. I have many weaknesses. I like to hide as many of them as I can.

Isn't that funny? As humans, we are inherently flawed creatures, but we don't like others to know about our individual flaws. Shouldn't it be good enough for them to know that my main flaw is that I'm human? I think we think too much. At least, I know I do. Well, maybe it's better to say I think too much about some things and not enough about others. Does it balance out somehow in the end?

See? We're always seeking external affirmation. What's wrong with us? We know that reality is based on perceptions, so our best source of affirmation is ourselves. If we perceive ourselves as confident, intelligent, funny, beautiful, sexy, and just generally wonderful people, then we will be. But we don't. We're always looking for someone else to tell us what to love about ourselves. I say "we", but maybe I'm just speaking for "me". I hope not.

And there goes the insecurity. My mind just manifested an imagined world where I'm the only screwed up person. I know that's not true. I know it's not. I know it's not. Please, don't interrupt my litany; it's the only thing that keeps me from breaking down. Don't contradict me with your silence. Someone tell me I'm not the only one.

You know...until someone answers, I'm just talking to myself. That's scary. I talk to myself a lot. I call it "thinking aloud". I've done it ever since I can remember. It's gotten to the point where I almost can't think in my head anymore. I have to sound it out or write it down. Sometimes, I think about that and I wonder if I'm not crazy. I know what someone else would think if they walked in on me while I was "thinking".

But why should I care what someone else thinks? At this point in my life, I am who I'm always going to be, right? So, if someone doesn't like it, they're not worth wasting my time. Oh, how effortlessly those words come out. As if doing it were as easy as saying it. I only wish.

See why I hate when it's quiet up there? It's almost as chaotic as the alternative. At least if I have all this other stuff running around in my head, there's little room left over for the inevitable self doubt. Well, until things get back to normal, I guess I'll have to sit here and talk to myself, reassure myself that my usual company is not gone for good. That is, of course, unless you would like to join the conversation...