The name of my blog is "Things I overheard while talking to myself." This title has a dual purpose. Number one, it's a shout-out to one of my favorite actors, and if we ever met, I'm sure he'd be one of my favorite people, Alan Alda. It's the name of his autobiography that was published a couple of years ago. Now, while I haven't yet had time to read his book, I love the title. It made me laugh out loud. Second....I really do talk to myself. Rather a lot. When I was a kid, I would occasionally catch my father talking to himself, and when I asked him about it, he would invariably answer that talking to himself was the only way he could have an intelligent conversation. Hmmm. I'm not so sure how I feel about that.
So yeah, I talk to myself. Sometimes out loud. Often in my car or when I'm home alone. When I'm trying to get to sleep, I tell myself to shut up. Seriously. What do I talk about? I rehearse conversations I intend to have with people. I rehash conversations I've already had with people. I don't hear voices or anything, other than my own. I had a friend a few years ago who was schizophrenic. She heard some other voice - a man's voice. What I experience is nothing like that. It's my own voice and even when I'm rehearsing or rehashing conversations, I control what is said...out loud or not.
One time, when I lived in Philly, I was in my car, driving around, as I often did, and was going over something in my head. Then, I started saying "my" half of the conversation out loud, but quietly. When I looked in the rearview, I remembered that I had a kid in the car - Ben, who was looking at me like I was some kind of crazy person.