Inner Dialogue GET OUT

I don’t really talk to myself that often but I think I should start.

Like I just walked in the house and said SHOWER. Yes, Sarah. Take a fucking shower. Your sinuses are blocked and your fingers are tingling cuz you’re freezing and a shower will do you good. Forgo those fucking dishes in the sink, the grocery list, and the laundry.

I turned the corner to head upstairs and then I said EAT SOMETHING. (there’s a muffin in the toaster right now)

So it’s like this – instead of talking out loud to make a list or directing your comments at someone all the time, why don’t I just blab out loud to myself when I’m alone?

I went to a private, all-girls, boarding and day school for high school (before I was kicked out – but that’s another story entirely – one that I should probably talk out loud too so I can clear it up in my mind). At said school there was this one teacher renowned for the fact that he was always talking to himself. You’d be in line for lunch and there he’d be, right behind, you mumbling to himself. I don’t think I ever really distinguished what he was saying. I always wondered. Was he resolving issues, was he making lists, was he contemplating his classes or his students? Was he just nuts? Thing is, the man was clearly one of the most bright – if the most intimidating among all the intimidatingly smart teachers there. But he also seemed at peace. Was it because he voiced that inner dialogue we all have? Instead of trying to work through everything all solo in the mind, he allowed himself to declare it, make it more audible, and allow another part of the brain to process it or something?

Voicing things brings about conviction, doesn’t it? I mean, when I talk I am most certain about what I am thinking. When it swims around and around in my mind I am just so damn cloudy. I’m tired of the clouds. Just tired.

So now, SHOWER Sarah, SHOWER!