Worthless Dialogue with Myself: Part 1

Summary: An early work. Stream of consciousness writing from way back in the years. From the perspective of having a conversation with my own self. It was more about a cathartic exercise when I was going through times of deeper depression. It turned out sort like journaling/diary, except for being more narrative like. It is still cringe. | Word Count: 487

“Careful. Fall into any more uncertainty and you just might forgo your own existence.” The voice warned sarcastically to me.

Why are you even here?

“Someone has to keep this dialogue going forward or you will get bored and go mad.”

A conversation only in meaningless directions. What a waste!

“You waste your own time, but I am trying to make you feel better. Talking it out helps – you know. Some things are put into a different form when you do. Thoughts, questions, and even your random musings are met voice to voice. All in all, I think talking about it helps. You should do that more often.”

I suppose so. I just can’t find the words to start. Not when all this is going on…

“So, what is really bothering you?”

I still don’t know what to think. This life. Myself, I mean. I do things and I fail to understand why I do them or worse: why I don’t do them.

“Are you that unsure of yourself?”

Yes! So much so. I have a good idea of what I should do – at least I think it’s a good idea – but it never works out. I don’t know how others react to things. Do I think that differently from others?

“I think…you are being too hard on yourself. And you are overthinking things. Do you know the difference between those who have confidence and those who don’t?”

No, not at all.

“Well it seems that those with confidence simply wing it. They either are oblivious to the rut you get stuck in about being anxious about having confidence or not or they lied to others that confidence came naturally. Either way they reap the benefits of great confidence.”

So, is that all?

“Yup. That’s simple.”

I am not sure I feel it.

“What do you mean by that?”

I just don’t feel it. That confidence. Even if I pretend I have it. I don’t feel it like I have it.

“That’s what faking confidence means. You create real confidence that way. Humans are just behaviors and routines. We learn things one way then do them. You want to change those behaviors, you start small. You jump to a new environment, start a new routine to replace the old one, and give plenty of time for errors. Once you form a rigid behavior you adapt to that behavior, but you gotta want to change. Or be forced too.”

I guess.

“You know. It might not be just confidence.” the voice said, noting how I dismissed most of what he said, “Maybe other things are bothering you. Let’s just keep talking until you find it. Then work on those other things along with confidence.”

Fine. Maybe one day I will feel better about everything and have more confidence like you said.

“I hope so too.” the voice said with encouragement.

He knew I was being quite stubborn.

Worthless Dialogue with Myself: Part 2

Summary: An early work. Also stream of conscious reflection on depression from a long time ago that felt very confusing rewriting – it had to do something with being confused about the world. The healthy aspects of writing this was at least explaining to myself some amount of emotion I was feeling at the time even if it was unclear to even myself. The more healthier thing I did later on was talk about it to loved ones and mental health professionals. Opening up to others is hard, but necessary. | Word Count: 282

I know nothing…

“Well, you are alive aren’t you?” Said a voice, “That means you know something.”

I don’t care. It’s worth nothing. I say.

“It’s worth your survival. Like eating good food. Or baking good food.” The voice said with irritation.

I eat just enough for survival, however it’s worth little to eat without having all this pain. Nothing comes out right.

“Pain. Everyone knows this. It’s a given to live, so why waste time thinking you know nothing when you know something, despite the pain.” The voice continued.

This pain. My pain. When I don’t even know what it is. How is this worth anything to me?

“It’s worth is equal to another’s pain. Their pain – empathy. Their feelings for you, when they know you are in pain. Your feelings when you know they are in pain. They can help, but you must communicate.” The voice softly responds.

I know even less…

“No, you know even more by understanding you know less.” The voice retorted.

My pain is only felt by me, yet others experience the same, but it’s not the same and it is the same and yet so different from mine. There’s a gap in knowing!

“Yes – there always is. Your ramblings barely make sense at this, but sense is not the point. The point is that you are not alone in feeling the pain. Life is hard to comprehend. You need to learn that it’s ok to talk about your feelings.” The voice said simply.

One day….One day…I will.

It takes time. Sometimes for a long time. But remember to do so.