Hearing Voices
As a writer, I have a very active internal monologue—I talk to myself constantly. Sometimes I tell myself stories. Sometimes I am translating my own stories into first-person accounts. Sometimes I am writing stories in the third person. I eavesdrop constantly on conversations between my characters, and sometimes I speak with them directly. Other times, I am rehearsing a script–for example, when I’m cooking, and I’m holding the recipe in my mind.
Like many people, I didn’t realize this was not universal until a viral blog post pointed it out.
Whether someone’s internal monologue involves words or not is an interesting discussion, but ultimately not an important one–it falls into the category of “to each their own.” What really matters is not how your thoughts unfold, but whether those thoughts are true.
I’ve always thought of Philippians 4:8 (“Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things”) as a verse that applies to things that exist outside our own heads. I might, for example, cite that verse as a motivation to seek out wholesome television and movies and avoid violent video games. But what if we applied it instead to our own internal monologue—to our self-talk?
The things we tell ourselves about ourselves—the voices inside our heads, if you will—often grow from seeds planted by others. Sometimes those seeds are wholesome and healthy—those are the voices that believe in us, that encourage us, that bring us up when we’re feeling down. Those are the voices that have loved us. Other seeds are planted by those who have nothing wholesome to offer, perhaps because nothing wholesome was ever offered to them. You cannot give what you do not possess. Those voices run us down and discourage us; they are cruel and hateful. I am not sure why, but those voices are often the ones with the strongest roots. They have a tendency to choke out the loving voices. They dominate the conversation, pouring poison in our ears, slowly killing us even while we live.
If you have walked away from a relationship that was verbally, emotionally, or psychologically abusive: congratulations! It is an essential first step. But you can’t walk away from things that are living inside your head; you are going to have to stand and fight. You’re going to have to learn to stop hearing the voice of your abuser inside your head—even if it’s home-grown. You can fight the voice that says ugly things to you and about you; that voice that is fighting hard to wrench your reality out of shape. Whether you are dealing with hateful comments directed at yourself (“You’re so lazy!”), or gaslighting that tries to warp reality out of shape (“You were late because you don’t love me!”), it is helpful—necessary, even—to keep a determined laser-focus on what is true (I work very hard. I was late because there was a traffic accident).
Fight back in the voices of those who love you. Listen to the people who tell you good and true things about yourself–and learn to believe them. It may be a random stranger who says, “I like your shoes” or a dear friend who tells you “I love your sketches,” or a co-worker who says “Thanks for your help with that project”—whatever form that kind seed comes in, accept it. Don’t let the hateful voices sneer it out of your head. Plant it. Water it. Let it grow. You chose shoes that look good on you. Your talent made someone smile. Your work is valuable. These things are true, and they are good.
Listen to the good, pure, commendable things that are said to you. And pass them along—what you possess, you can freely give to others. Someone else has been the voice inside your head, you can do the same for others. You can be the voice in someone else’s head.
What do you want to say?