Silence
Silence. I long for it. I need it. I thrive on it. But silence comes in different forms based on who or what controls it. I love silence after a long day of overstimulation. I need that silence to unwind, regather my thoughts and regain my energy. This silence is uncontrolled and just seems to flow in my environment, but at the same time this silence is controlled because I need to be in my own environment to have it. Outside of my environment, silence is a different thing.
Then there is the silence that I experience when it comes to people. It is rare that I have experienced being around someone who has understood the comfortableness of silence. With the exception of my parents who learned to live with the silent aspect of my personality, I have found comfort in silence with only two other people with the exception of a therapist who was trained to understand it. They all allowed me to sit in silence without every questioning my need for it. They gave me space for silence without ever judging me for it.
The other two people who allowed me to revel in silence without ever questioning me about it are also both therapists by trade. They were not my therapists; I worked with them on the job. They would allow me to come to their office space to just debrief and hide myself away from the stress and chaos of the work atmosphere. I was not the only one who sought them or their spaces out for solitude either. There was something about the environment they both created that made their spaces peaceful, but there was also something about them too. Their personalities were all about peace … and silence.
I could just sit in their spaces and in their presences for as long as I needed to do so just to recharge myself, but usually it was no more than 5 to 10 minutes. I always had work to do and reality to face, but I was always grateful for the space they created for my silence. Even if they did not understand my silence, they were not offended by it. They never punished me for my silence. My silence was something I needed to maintain to be me. My silence is a part of me, and I was grateful that they both accepted me for it.
When Silence Creates Agony
Sometimes silence can create agony for me. That is when silence is a weapon against me. Silence often creates problems for me particularly when I am battling depression. Silence gives me the ability to go inside of my head [a place I tend to spend a lot of time anyway]. Inside of my head I will think and even overthink about the state of my life, the situations I have created or allowed, and I hurt because I long to squelch the pain I feel because of silence and the pain I feel because of my choices.
My over thinking and over analyzation of situations gets me into trouble. I ponder over situations until I find relief. Relief usually comes when my suspicions or thoughts about situations have been confirmed based on the pieces of a puzzle I have managed to piece together about the circumstances. This how my mind works. I must have understanding. I cannot just let a thing go. I have to work it out, and when there is no resolution for me, then there is the agony of silence.
This is how my mind works when it comes to narcissists in particular. If I discern someone is a narcissist, I must confirm the facts based on what I already know and see beneath the surface. Once I have done so, my mind searches for an exit to the madness. If narcissists are paying attention to the changes of my silence, then they become aware that they have lost the control they desire to have over me.
My silence is often my way to indulge in deep thought when around narcissists who begin to figure out that I know them for who they truly are as narcissists. It is then that I am on the verge of planning my own discard from narcissists designed to last forever. This deep thought of silence is agony, however, because I just do not come to letting go of narcissists easily. In my heart, they are still people that I cared a great deal for and even loved, and I must severe the ties that my heart was attached to [where they were concerned] as well.
A Painful Silence
My silence is sometimes painful because I deal with a lot of things alone. I have the habit of usually being more about my internal wellness than my outer wellness, and I must will myself to snap out of it lengthy silences. It can be a struggle. It can be a struggle to express myself without inhibitions. I feel as if people do not understand me on the deeper level that I need them to do so.
On what seems like rare occasions, I believe people do get me, but I am more often inclined to believe they have motives for doing so. This most certainly may not be the case, but I am not too trusting of people anymore. I have dealt with so many narcissists and their gameplaying so much to where it is hard for me to trust myself to trust people. Not everyone is a narcissist, but when I encounter one, I encounter someone that drives me to my silence.
This silence is not a silent treatment for punishment. Instead, it is a silence that I must dive into to hear my thoughts, to regather myself from hurt, loss, and disillusionment, or to simply sit still and hold onto the moment. Yet, the silence is sometimes painful when I survey the circumstances and the meaning of my relationships and connections. Then, I take an honest assessment and realize that I lack true depths of connections, and the knowledge I gain from this assessment hits me like a ton of bricks.
I battle in silence. I cry in silence. I laugh in silence. I regroup in silence. I change in silence. I learn in silence. I grow in silence. I meditate in silence. I pray in silence. I anguish in silence. I isolate in silence. But all the while, I find enjoyment silence. In fact, I love silence, but it sometimes hurts when silence becomes too much … because in silence I remember so much. But then the pain passes as it so often does only to continue the cycle again.
I do not know if this painful silence is a part of life or just my battle with depression. Either way, this painful silence comes, and as much as I should be ready for it and expect it, I am always caught off guard … as if by surprise.
My Voice Unchained 