Speak Up
I’m an internal processor who is starting to question my own process.
I think a lot about situations and am often prone to over-think things, however,
There’s a dimension to processing I abandon.
It’s not on purpose, I don’t even realize it… until I release the reverberation of my internal chamber. When I give voice to my reflections, this other part of me emotes, and can sabotage my intent.
Internally, I am stoic, rational, and compelling. Emotion doesn’t hold a seat in my head, she is not a member of my parliament.
It’s not that I ignore her, Feelings. Ignoring implies an intention to quiet or dismiss. Internally, Feelings isn’t even present for the roll call.
I now realize that my mind’s detachment from feelings is emotional dissociation.
Even as I type, it’s difficult for me to place the word “my” beside “feelings,” because that would identify me with her, and she is so different from me.
In effort to share my internal process, when I breathe life into my contemplation and give it a voice, an exchange happens that — for all my attempts — I cannot comprehend.
There’s something about engaging in external process that imposes emotion, as though voice is itself tied to sentiment.
I imagine the sensation of thoughts breathing, the vibration along my vocal cords awakens this otherwise silent part of me. I am wholly unaccustomed to her. She has the dramatic strength and endurance of a well-trained, competition athlete. When under her influence, I am left subject to her terms.
I hate being asked how I am doing when I am dealing with a deep process, because I am subdued when she is unleashed.
It’s not that I am out of control, I simply cannot control certain indicators of my control.
My voice may break or palms sweat, my face may flush or tears swell, or any combination of the above. And when I fight her, I lose grasp of my thoughts entirely. Not only does my appearance betray me, but now I can no longer remember what I was saying.
Seizing my reason, she steals my voice. I am her hostage.
She demands her time, and she will fight me.
And I’ve always fought back.
But now, after a year that has utterly exhausted and extended me beyond the previously unknown limits of my will, I am surrendered.
In conceding, I’m giving her space to simply let her be.
And I’m learning a lot from her…
When I allow Feelings her presence, and rather than refuse her, work with her as a translator of my parliament’s pondering, she surprises me with insights I’ve not been privy to.
Feelings bring the conflict of my internal debates into clear, symphonic harmony.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still uncomfortable with her antics. But the lesson I’m learning in working with her is,
Her voice is the piercing thread that collects and connects, amalgamating the reasonable fragments of my process into cohesive, clear communication.
Feelings convey me better than I can alone.
When I started to consider her, I simply tolerated her. But even in that resigned, limited space, she shared herself and taught me. Now that I recognize she knows me better than I know myself, I’m making efforts to embrace her.
Still, it is an effort, but I’m learning include my voice, Feelings, in my process. I’m choosing to speak up.
If you are anything like me, I hope you choose to speak up, too.
