My brain goes through a nonstop cycle of thinking. I had a somewhat morbid thought last night after I switched off my lamp and settled into a comfortable stillness under my blankets: that it’s impossible for my mind to stop being active even during sleep, unless I died and my brain shut down permanently.
It’s both frustrating and terrifying. Sometimes I do wish I could power off like a computer because I dislike the constant of my own mind. I think so much about everything and anything but I don’t believe I verbally use my actual voice to communicate half of those thoughts.
For so long it has felt unnatural for me to just speak freely as the thoughts come into my mind. I wasn’t always like this. As a child, I was shy but could be a chatterbox around those I was comfortable around. Though thinking back, maybe I had trouble socially from early on and it got worse with the progression of my social anxiety in later years. I could write a whole book in an attempt to trace where and why it went wrong for me. So many reasons and experiences that shaped me.
Sometimes I try to push past that barrier. It can be a hateful chore. To speak when my instinct screams at me to keep my mouth closed. And long after the words have come out, I am plagued with thoughts of self-loathing, of regret, of sheer embarrassment (or relief) that I went against myself.