I joke frequently that if you hear me talking to myself, not to be concerned. Don't even worry if you hear me arguing with myself. Unless, of course, you happen to hear me Lose an argument with myself, in which case it's probably time to start thinking about calling the local nut hut for an extended visit with the men in the clean white coats.
While most would no doubt rather associate "voices in the head" with Schizophrenia, I'm a tad more forthright than that, both about myself and about what I've learned over the years concerning human nature. Yes, I have them, as do we all at some point even if we don't admit it to anyone other than ourselves. No, these aren't the psychotic voices that someone truly off their rocker would associate with "god" or "demons" or anything like that. These are the little voices of internal conversations with a variety of folks.
You likely know what I mean. That conversation you daydream about having with your deceased parent, to fill them in on what's been going on in your life? Yeah, it's one of those. What you would say. How they would respond. What the two of you would be doing together while you talked. Or the one you have, silently within the spaces of your mind, with that idiot driver on the highway who just cut you off. How about the various ones you have with your spouse or significant other, over various slights that you otherwise let pass unremarked upon, or things you would like them to do or not do? Or the one with your boss, or your boss's boss, about how things are going at work, or that promotion that's potentially on the line?
A great many of the conversations that take place only within the confines of my own imagination wouldn't go nearly as well if they were actually held. There would, after all, be consequences to deal with after all was said and done. At least when the conversation is only within the spaces of fantasy and imagination, one can also Imagine a perfect world where the consequences are always in our own favor, we win every argument or disagreement, and the world is suitably impressed with our witty zingers, our righteous anger, and our remarkable self restraint in not going on a completely postal killing spree.
Earlier tonight I had another series of such conversations within the confines of my brain. I won't divulge with whom or over what, because that's no one's business but my own. Suffice to say that by the end of said imaginary conversations, if they ever actually took place, my life would change - perhaps for the better, perhaps for the worse, depending on one's point of view and whether the conversations followed the course of my imagination, or of what I am fairly certain reality would actually throw my direction when the consequences came home to roost.
An End to Our Pillow
2 hours ago