Here’s the transcript of the audio that I posted Sunday. Hubby said I needed to add it for the “people out there who are visual”. Gotta love being married to someone who is completely opposite of you.
When I read the Word Press weekly writing challenge, The Sound of Blogging, I was intrigued, but wary. So many questions began rushing through my head, “How can I use this to connect more with my readers?” “Do I even want to?” “Is the sound of my voice too personal, or too vulnerable?” The answers were “No—I don’t really want to” and “yes, it seems too personal and vulnerable”. And, like a lot of things in life—that meant I should probably do it. Like “no I don’t want to eat my vegtables” and “yes it would be good for me” One of the goals of this blog is for me to grow in the confidence and openness of a woman who ‘surfs’ the waves of bipolar. This seemed like a good stretch for that.
Once that was decided, I had to answer the next series of questions—how does sound affect my journey? So many great, wonderful, fantastic ideals zoomed around my brain! The sound of my breath, guided imagery tapes, frequency music, tuning forks, my husband’s voice, my voice, chanting. WOW I could do them all, they are all such great ideas how could I just choose one—WAIT! Slow down. As you can tell, I’m feeling a bit manic today.
And they are all great tools and techniques, that I will probably share at one point. But the sounds that most affect my journey are the ones that other’s don’t hear. The voices and sounds in my head.
First, there are the voices that do not sound like my own. The voice that said, “Don’t take that medicine, your parents are trying to poison you”. “Hide behind that couch, someone outside might be looking to shoot you” “Don’t go near that person, remember when they abused you?” Thank goodness the medicine and therapy have helped me get these under control. They are terrifying and dehibiltating. And I only had a very very minor experience with them compared to many others I know.
Then there is the noise my brain creates. While you might think of them as just thoughts, for me during panic and anxiety attacks they are so much more. They are literally noise clamoring in the back of my head for attention. I grasp pieces here and there as each screams to be heard over the others. The words sound louder than any I am experiencing externally.
Finally, I find the last one hardest to explain. It hits me during times of anxiety and it sounds like very loud white noise. Static, beeping, sirens. Sounds that block out everything else. Which is sometimes good since they are more pleasant than the anxious thoughts—but they give me a headache in less time than it took you to listen to this post.
I’m sure this is not what the writers of the challenge were thinking of? But when do I ever do what’s expected or normal? They probably were thinking of an uplifting song, birds chirping in the spring time, or the sound of your lover’s voice whispering sweet nothings. Now, I like and appreciate all of those—but sometimes they don’t seem as overpowering as the sounds I discussed. I’m hoping they will become more prominent in my mind as I move along in my journey.
It’s like that question (which I always hated and never thought I’d find a purpose to use)—if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it—does it still make a sound? If the noise is just in my head and no one else can hear it—does it still make a sound?