The voices usually come when I’m alone. While I’m walking to the shop. When I’m lying in bed with Baby Girl and she’s falling asleep while drinking from ‘her boobies’. In the middle of washing up or packing away the clothes. Voices. Thoughts. Questions. Imaginary conversations.
I don’t care to know some of the answers so they remain unasked. Did you keep your ring on? Did you know what was going to happen hours later when you sent the ‘I Love You!’ hours earlier? Did you think of me, of us, of our family before you…? F@cking questions.
Then there are the thoughts. The thoughts that take every action, every reaction, every look, every micro expression, every non-reaction, every word spoken or written, and attempt to interpret them. Putting my own spin on things and boy do I know how to spin things in my head.
Imaginary conversations happen all the time. Playing out scenarios. Very rarely giving them a real voice. Rarely.
When these thoughts or questions or conversations aren’t happening, there are the songs. A playlist of a few songs and I can’t control it. If only I could control it.
The other night there were dreams. If I do dream, then I don’t usually remember them. But this night, I couldn’t forget. The first one had me shaking and crying, it was awful. The second one, well, it played out something that was on my mind. If all my dreams are like these then I’d rather not dream. And if I do, I’d rather not remember.
The only way to quell the voices is to write blog posts in my head. To imagine how I’d describe my thoughts. Crazy, right? Slowly. Losing. My. Mind.
Thanks for reading x