Losing My Mind, or The Voices in My Head

Losing My Mind, or The Voices in My Head

May 23, 2012

Sometimes I think I might be losing my mind.  I hear voices in my head.  Not the kind to tell me to murder people, or that God is coming this year (though Spirit and I have regular silent two-way conversations all the time), but the kind of voices that tell me that I should be writing.

Sometimes the voices resemble the ones that I imagine my main characters would have.  Tara’s is feminine but strong, more decisive the more I get to know her.  Derek’s is deep, rumbling with something of a gentleness to it when he’s talking about family or Tara.  Doraleigh’s voice reminds me or Demi Moore’s – raspy, like she smokes a pack a day (though Dori wouldn’t dare smoke).  And Brynn, who won’t be with us much longer, is snooty, condescending, and very Southern (Georgia Southern).

Other times, the voice is my one teacher friend who encourages me to let whimsy take over as often as possible so I can get this story written in true form, with the voices of my characters driving and directing it.

Then there’s my own voice in my head.  It’s quiet, soft, unimposing.  Not at all like me in real life.  Just ask anyone who knows me.  But that soft voice I can recognize as mine whispers to me “You should be writing.  Put down the coupons, forget about walking today, let the family fend for itself or starve – you must write!”  And I answer myself, Isn’t that selfish, to want to do just what I want right then, and everything else be damned?  But then my teacher friend’s voice chimes in (hear it droning and nasally to exaggerate her point), “But you have to write now!  Or they won’t stop talking to you.  They want to be heard.  And you’re doing them and yourself, and ultimately your family a disservice if you don’t make time for yourself to write.”

Now, I could end this reflection with a cutesy remark like, “With all these voices in my head I don’t know which one to listen to.”  (Oops.)  But since I am reflecting on talking myself into letting go of the distractions that keep me from listening to my own still, small voice of creativity, I’ll simply say that my daughters are cleaning the house, my husband is finishing dinner, the coupons are in the box, cut but unorganized, and I’m writing this post.

Point proven – I simply have to talk (to) myself into writing every day.

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