I learned, some time ago, about internal monologues.
I don't have them.
I think and feel and react on a visceral level,
Feeling and picturing long before I apply my immediate experience to words,
If I ever do.
That's not to say I don't ever think in words.
Often I bounce them around in my mind when I write.
I form words on the lips of my mind to see how they could be interpreted,
How they would sound if spoken outloud to an audience.
Never to myself.
Because I don't need words.
I see that it would be useful if I had more words.
Instead of vague upset, there would be more...
*Pressure in my mind, gasping for connection. Breathing, picturing...
Sitting in a chair, oppsite a therapist. Drawing connections between cause and effect...*
What's the word for working through things? Like in therapy? Resolution?
I'll settle for peace.
Instead of vague upset, there would be more peace.
If I was constantly monologuing, I could be good with words. Unfortunately I'm not.
Instead I constantly speak and feel misunderstood, that I'm always unable to say what I mean.
With an empty head full of silence, emotion, and scenes,
There are strengths to be had.
It makes hearing God much easier, as He doesn't need to compete, too much, for space.
Occasionally He might need to shove past song lyrics or witty movie quotes, which do stick,
But otherwise He can take the stage.
Subsequently, I've learned to listen to the phrases I find in my head. Phrases like
"I want to go home."
That's not a movie quote. Not a song. It fits more into a scene.
It's a desperate, sad plea from a girl feeling bullied at the sleepover.
It's the first few days at girl's camp, uncomfortable, stretched, surface level friendships.
It's a phrase I've used outloud several times in my life, usually through tears.
"I want to go home."
It's odd to hear it in my own mind, a mind which usually gives no words to those scenes.
I hear it, I think, because it wants an audience.
It is a phrase, not just an emotion, given words because it needs recognition.
I am, however, an adult. I do, however, live, very much, at home.
"I want to go home."
I AM home. As I think it, I am sitting in my very own home.
I AM home. As I think it, I am sitting in my very own home.
I don't need my mom. I don't need my hometown.
I don't need my twin-sized bed with the hand-picked lime green walls from my youth.
Who am I talking to? What do I mean?
"I want to go home."
Abraham sojourned in a strange land. The Bible teaches us that he looked for a city.
"He looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God."
He looked for home. Despite all the material possessions he had, he did not have that.
The phrase comes more often to my mind, now, than it ever has.
"I want to go home."
I long for belonging. I long to be understood. I long for unconditional love,
For a role, for a purpose, for confidence and support.
I long to be valued, to be seen, to be known, in a home shared, mutually, with God.
(Maybe this is why I need to move to Oregon...)
