I talk to myself. As far as habits go it’s not exactly the worst. But it’s started to get embarrassing because I find I’m now doing it outside, in public – rather than in inside, alone. Technically, it’s not myself I am talking to now – it’s the world.
And it’s not like I don’t realise I’m doing it – oh no, I know exactly what’s happening. I just don’t care that people can hear me. They probably just assume I’m on a handsfree phone. Or that I’m a bit unhinged (which I am, if I happen to be on the bus or train at the time…)
In reality I doubt anyone ever notices. Which is just as well, as my thoughts aren’t exactly censored. Really quite private, sometimes – the kind of things that should actually stay indoors.
So what’s going on? Is it just age? This is what happens as you get older isn’t it – you go a bit mad, ha ha ha ONLY JOKING. But you do start to care less about what other people think.
It’s a bit strange – or maybe it isn’t, really – but it has always been essential that I talk things through with myself. Keeping my thoughts inside my head hasn’t ever been enough – for some reason I have to actually vocalise them. Like a muscle I need to stretch at least twice a day.
When I was growing up I would really struggle if I didn’t get this time with myself. I would run things through preliminarily in my head, thoughts running around my brain all day – at my school desk, when talking with friends, on the walk home – and then I would re-cap out loud in my bedroom later that day. Just to get everything straight. This routine continued right into adulthood.
I suppose when I found myself no longer living with my family (where I had that access to ‘my own’ space – my bedroom), but began sharing my life with another person, this routine had to be modified.
Of course I still have space (arguably more space than ever) that I can call ‘my own’ – but not in the same way that having a private space like that of a teenage girl’s bedroom offers. That place where you can close the door on the world. So, without realising, I had changed along with my living circumstances.
I toned my musings down – they were weird and potentially embarrassing. Instead, they stayed in my head, were perhaps allowed an occasional whisper. But this policy of restraint obviously hasn’t worked because now, five years on, here I am battling daily with thoughts that have pushed themselves to the surface and are bursting out unannounced on the train, at the traffic lights, in ladies toilets, walking down the street… I’m even signing out loud in public now, too. What the hell?
I’m not quite sure what all this says about me. But I suppose this blog is just another (socially acceptable) way of me externalising all those thoughts. And that must be healthy.
I know what you’re thinking though – that girl thinks too much. You’re right.