My mind chatters just like yours, but not the soft whispers of yours. It wanders into the thorns and bushes of long-forgotten events of my life bruising my sensitivity. It sent disturbing lingering noises down my spine and I felt its every scream. As expected, I have tried muting its clattering and chattering on many occasions but I have failed.

Mind-wandering is normal. Everyone’s mind chatters. The chattering is the inner dialogue that constantly provides solutions, gives advice and analyse stuff. Working with the brain, the inner voice gives you the clue on what shoes go with the colour of clothes you chose to wear. It plans out your day. Literally, it has a say in your life, your circumstances and the people you meet.

This voice vocalises your choices, it makes you fall in and out of love. The inner voice is part of you, it is YOU. It was there all along when you experienced the disappointments of life, the pain of losing someone close; the heartbreak. It was the soothing voice of encouragement. It hails you when you achieve and it sends its condolence when you fail.

The resounding voice of care is linked with your emotions. In addition, the sweet bitterness experience of life gives your inner voice its strength but you have the power to choose its melody or discordance. This is where I failed woefully.

As a loner, in my solitude and seclusion, I often dive into the ocean of my thoughts fishing for freedom and antidotes but along the slippery line, I slipped falling deep into its deception unaware.

My Clouded Mind

In the autumn of 2020, I lost the grip of my strongholds and cracked in. Within me, I felt the avalanches of past pains, horror and anguish. I felt the peppery punch on my open wound.

Part of my brain that stored long-forgotten events of my life swung its gate open. The weak nerves reconnected somewhere up there, strengthened. My exhausted brain exhumed forgotten hurtful events and I allowed my body to re-live the past with tears, deep unhappiness and starvation covered up in spiritual fasting.

Consequently, my sleep was distorted. The long chain of the hurtful memory translated into nightmares. As days became shorter, this trauma lengthen. I cried at the drop of a hat. My bed became my haven. I covered up well for people close to me, I showed up just for the occasion. No one knew the battle taking place inside.

Seeking The Help Needed

I knew the signs of depression, but I was in self-denial mode. It was difficult to accept. I wanted help. The pain was unbearable, but seeking the help needed was difficult.

I deepened and hid within the corners of my little box. I lost weight and under my eyes were dark circles of worry. My sleep was hunted by nightmares of events of decades ago. At night, the horror stories I have heard or read came alive.

I reached a breaking point when I couldn’t stop myself from crying. Picking up the phone and sobbing uncontrollably, I called my doctor. The receptionist couldn’t get a clear word out of me, I heaved up and down trying to stop myself sobbing.

Mending The Cracks Of My Mind

I became helpless as the Receptionist signposted me to professionals who specialised in shushing over-chattering minds. With a few sessions of thoughts analysis, I made a huge process of handpicking helpful thoughts.

Knowing that these thoughts are simply electro-chemical impulses in my brain helps, I began the long run to healing, taking charge and giving the inner voice a topic to discuss: a topic of my choice.

I am mending my cracked over-active mind; sieving through each electrochemical impulse of my brain and letting my inner voice work for me not against me.