Internal Monologue

I’ve heard that some people don’t have an internal monologue; they don’t hear their own voice, voicing all their thoughts out loud in their mind. When I first heard of it, I couldn’t comprehend it. If I was like that, how else would I be able to come to terms with all that’s happened in my life?

I make up conversations with myself in my own head, I make up possible scenarios in my head, I interview myself in my head, I talk to myself one-on-one about my problems for comfort when I know for certain that no one out there will do that for me. It’s like a larger part of my life than my actual life.

There’s been countless times people have intentionally tried pissing me off during class because I was the quiet one that never retaliated at school, there were two or three that really tried getting on my nerves.

I never said anything though.

Back then, I’d get hit in the back of the head by while walking to lunch for just about no reason whatsoever, one of the adults would notice and would ask if that hurt and if that was just some game or if they should give them a lecture.

I said it didn’t hurt. And yes, it was a game.

The game was called, ‘Make this sixth grader’s life miserable because eleven year old boys love being assholes,’ and I was the target without my consent. There wasn’t actually a name, but you know what I mean.

I was invisible, which was why all of those idiots paid attention to me. Because no matter what they did, no one would care.

There were a lot of words I would’ve liked to say, that I’ve only kept inside of my head as a played out the potential possibilities of what would ensue if I was as loud-mouthed as I was at home.

I didn’t have many friends back then if at all, back to school after the pandemic, new school, that crap. The reason I even passed the time in recess and lunch was because I had myself to listen to. My mind make these own worlds in my head much more exciting in reality, so that’s where I spent my days for most of that year.

In my head, I imagined myself larger than I actually was just to boost my own self-esteem. Though, I guess it also held me back in a few ways. There’s also been times when my internal monologue turned negative once I messed up on something, even if it was something minor.

‘I’m the dumbest person on Earth.’

‘Why the hell am I the smartest here again?’

‘Can you do literally nothing?’

Obviously, there were much worse than that, but I don’t want to get too dark.

Even when I was in kindergarten, I’ve literally named the voice in my head and would talk to it when I was waiting under the tree during recess and would talk to it as if referring to it as another person. I guess I didn’t have friends in kindergarten either.

I’m not sure if my dependence on my own inner voice to keep me going has verged onto ‘mentally ill’ territory. Considering this is me we’re talking about, most likely. I’m always breaking apart in some way or another.


Not a poem, but whatever 👍

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