The Voices in My Head
I want to give you a little peak into the wild world of my thinking mind
It’s buzzing, loud, frantic, eloquent, argumentative, judgmental, and contradictory
But most importantly…
Ninety percent of it is complete shit.
Yes, the vast majority of the programs that my little hard-working computer has acquired are complete trash:
Constant predictions and imaging of my complete failure in every pursuit
Continuous self-questioning and talking in circles in decision making
Endless shaming and conjuring of guilt over everything imaginable
Never-ending identification of how I’m constantly doing everything wrong
Tireless monologues of how I can’t handle whatever situation I’m in
Now I could spend (have spent) a lot of time identifying where all of this crap programming came from. Honestly, the sources were all very well-intentioned.
But the sources aren't important.
What IS important is that I’m fucking done with it.
Now when I say I’m done with it, that doesn’t mean that all these raging voices are quiet. Quite the contrary. Often, they don’t shut up. They’re like a ravaging thunder storm or a loud radio station that I can’t seem to turn off.
But you know what’s really amazing?
I (the real me) always know the difference between reality and the narration in my head. So even if the narration in my head is screaming at me or seems really convincing, the subtle but rock solid point of awareness that I really am knows that it’s just shit programming.
And that is fucking amazing. Because when my mind is screaming at me to give up. I don’t.
OVER AND OVER AGAIN.
I keep hearing people say that the more you stop giving your awareness or attention to your thinking, it quiets down.
If I’m honest, that hasn’t happened for me yet.
But I know that even if that never happens (and I’m pretty sure that it will), I’ll be just fine.
Because the incredible life or awareness that I am is infinitely smarter than my computer mind. Hell, it’s managed to get me this far in a pretty amazing way in spite of all that shit programming.
So yes, no matter what the future of my mental landscape looks like, I’m fucking done with the voices. I’m done with believing that they are important, and I’m done with believing that the narrator is me. Obviously, if it were me, I would have changed the content a long time ago.
I’m determined to enjoy the precious, beautiful life that I’ve been given for however long it lasts.
I’m fucking done with the voices.
What are you done with?
Photo by Marloes Hilckmann on Unsplash