Sometimes I worry that the voices in my head are more intesting than me, and that if I take all my meds I’ll be left alone with the one boring me who says, “Put some shoes one” and “Where are your pants?” and “You know you’re not allowed on the roof with that machete.” These are real fears I have. Then I realize that if I’m having these sorts of fears it’s a pretty good indication that I’m still fucked up in a mildly-dangerous-but-not-entirely-dull sort of way. And that’s a good thing.
I think.
Personally, I feel that a voice that tells you where you are allowed with a machete would be a handy voice to have indeed.
I’m glad it’s not just me.
The fact that you HAVE voices in your head – and that they’re interesting – speaks well of you 🙂
You aren’t lone in fearing to b normal. I think all of us do that.
Here’s confirmation that you are indeed fucked-up in a good way.
There’s always your family to draw from. Don’t worry, you’ll always have “material” (and people who love you).
My husband played the game “DeadPool” based on the Marvel character…he has a crazy voice, a “voice of reason,” and his own voice, and they’re all hilarious and inappropriate.
I’d be more worried if that remaining voice told you it was okay to go outside without pants on. Though technically the voice only asked if you knew where they were.
So, it’s not just me who thinks things like that? Good to know. (I think.)
You are always amazing. And hilarious.
I’d listen to the voices in my head but they are all speaking ancient Persian so I have no idea what they are saying.
Shoes and pants are overrated. Unless they are flannel snowflake jammy pants, and I am gonna wear mine ALL DAY.
As long as the voices in your head don’t have a different accent than you do, you’re fine. Ha 🙂
Bingo.
I received your calendar in record time! And, my friends and I loved your book. Hope you and yours have a great holiday.
if you can live with the voices and they don’t want you to harm yourself or others, I don’t see why you’d have to take the medications. But, that’s between you and your doctor. If you can function with just coping skills for hte voices, then let them talk!
Yes, but it’s the voices in your head telling you that. They’re the commercials in the middle of Doctor Who.
I understand what you mean. However, in my experience, although the post-med voices aren’t as “interesting,” they’re often the ones that more people can relate to and therefore are the ones that are better able to communicate meaningful things.
As long as the voices don’t fight you for the machete-on-the-roof rights, I think you’re doing just fine.
If it weren’t for the need to walk the dog a couple of times a day, I would never wear shoes. Slippers and pajama pants 4 life!
So you’re bored, nothing bad about that. It’s like a vacation but you stay at home. In your rational mind that visits you with plain sugar cookies. And tea.
How lonely it would be without those voices in our heads.
My voices sing alot. And they never know the words
Those voices in your head *are* you. They’ll still be there. Only you’ll be able to tell them to fuck off when they’re reeaally out of control. You could never be boring.
For how many years did you fear that you would never write anything good enough to be published by a classical publishing company? For long after you finished your book did you fear that no one would read it or like it? Both those fears turned out to be completely mistaken. Now are expressing fear your best writing comes from the “voices in your head” that are being suppressed by medication. Okay… sure… maybe… That could be true. I guess… maybe. I’ll make another guess. I am going to guess the fear you are expressing now is fundamentally the same fear you had before you book was published, and this current fear is just as mistaken as your earlier fears.
Your writing is often magical and hilarious.
It’s okay to trust yourself.
I think a happy medium is definitely a good thing.
I need voices to remind me to put pants on.
More Drugs, Better Drugs, more often, more alcohol too or better still FollowYourFear and come to Australia with me this time for that special Surf Lesson :-)))
I’d listen to that one about the machete thing. Maybe.
Sometimes genetics has nothing to do with kinship.
I think that many of us are worried that we aren’t as interesting as we think we are more often than you think. It’s a classic thought to wonder upon whether one is as worth a discussion as people make one out to be… You gotta trust that your friends know you’re worth it when you don’t think it ^_~
felt a little alone until I read this!!!! MY PEOPLE! I’m Home!!!!
Personally, I think that regardless if you have voices or not that you’d be just as awesome. You’d just have to hold up your part of the conversation more often.
Everything is better in moderation, even sanity I believe.
FWIW, the meds make my voices take turns, which is an improvement.
I’ve met some people who are really not fucked up at all. Boring, every last one of them.
Sometimes I dream that my parents are sitting me down and telling me the deep dark family secret, that my sister always hints at when I am awake, is that I am not really theirs. I have the dream so often I am no longer 100% sure that its not real, but I cannot ask anyone because I don’t know how to say it and not end up committed (again):
“So that whole me being adopted thing, that’s not real right?”
*that’s probably completely unrelated and odd way to say “I get you” we are all in this together and will hopefully all make it through.
It’s good to keep it in perspective. Yeah voices!
But are you allowed on the roof as long as you *don’t* have the machete? See, ’cause I don’t think I’d be allowed on the roof either way…or allowed to have a machete, regardless of whether or not I’m on a roof. I’m not sure if those are due more to my epilepsy, or to my anxiety/depression, but as I like to tell my hubs: I talk to myself/the voices in my head because sometimes it’s the most intelligent conversation I’ll have all day.
“You know you’re not allowed on the roof with that machete.”
Reminds me of my childhood; if I only had a nickle…
Pants ARE totally overrated. And really how many voices are we talking about? A couple? I’ve got a fucking committee in there, so I’d be happy to have just a few voices. Especially because my committee each has their own fucking opinion which can render me totally paralyzed. Machete on the roof would be cool but I can’t decide whether the soundtrack should be Space Odyssey or some 1940’s French love songs to wave it around to.
The voices aren’t more interesting than you because they ARE you. They’re merely inner expressions of who you are. Embrace them and use them to your advantage.
My problem is that my voices won’t shut up and I can’t get to sleep.
I think writing down what they say has definitely worked to you advantage.
I have the same thoughts! Yay!
Definitely a good thing. But if you’re pants-less and shoe-less on top of the roof with a machete screaming, “I’m fucked up in a mildly-dangerous-but-not-entirely-dull sort of way!” that might not be such a good thing.
I specifically asked my psychiatrist for the meds that wouldn’t take away the me…
on the up side, at least you can understand what the voices are saying, mine tend to whisper and I can only make out a word or two…I need a hearing aid for inside my head I guess
my GramCram (and everyone should have one of those, I SWEAR) used to say “All are mad, save me & thee – and even thou art a little odd.”.
Everyone has voices. You are still you.
And that’s a good thing. 😀
Currently reading your book. I can assure you you’re still f’ed up. But I am so glad because I am literally laughing out loud while reading. You are also very strong-no way would I experience the squirrel-puppet thing and live to tell about it! Keep the f’ed-up-ed-ness coming! (yeah, I made that word up. deal.)
Don’t feel weird. I had an indepth discussion with myself on genetically engineered squirrels bent on world domination this very morning.
Being normal (I assume) is stupid.
I wish the voices in my head would shut up when I’m trying to sleep. Personally, I don’t need to know if they got everything on the shopping list, or if they put gas in the car, or if there are enough ornaments on the tree. They really need to just let it go, so I can sleep.
I so hear you! I have the same fears. I complain about the hamster keeping me up at night and then I realize that if it wasn’t for the hamster, I wouldn’t solve any world problems because I’d be sleeping through all my brainiacal ideas. And then my kids wouldn’t have any excuses in life. So in a way it’s a win/win. Or lose/lose. Either way it’s always better to be working on the same side.
I must point out that your voice forgot to check your spelling in today’s blog. I will leave it to you to decide whether that is a good thing or not.
Cheers!
I think if you are able to know the difference between the voices and still have concern over which ones will remain with more/less meds you are saner than you give yourself credit for. Self-awareness escapes many people.
Also, no one should question whether or not you should be wearing pants. Get rid of that jerk.
This is why I come and go with the meds. Sometimes I just want to be myself (i. e. no meds) even if it garners strange looks, worry by others, and my penchant for wallowing in the deepest darkest of gloom….but then, when I scare myself, I retreat from myself by taking my meds which give me a safe break from me. Numb is only okay for a short while as is irrational strangeness.
There’s no middle ground. *sigh*
Just for the sake of clarification: which part does the not-on-the-roof-with-a-machete voice have an issue with? ‘Cause mine won’t let me on the roof, period.
(It’s not actually my machete. And sometimes not my roof. ~ Jenny)
Oh I can say without any doubt that the core of you is more interesting and will remain more interesting that any voices could ever be. 🙂
You *are* funny. You *are* skilled – which is talent combined with dedication. And I sincerely doubt you are capable of being boring. Just. Not. Possible. Boring people live in comfortable ruts and won’t come out.
I suggest you take the next several minutes and indulge in cats. Cats cure everything.
I’ve been there, the days when you look down at a handful of pills and wonder if you’re slowly destroying all the good bits of your brain, but as someone who (hopefully!!) is coming out the other end, it’s surprising how much EASIER it is to let my freak flag fly, now that I’m not having to also slog through crippling anxiety, depression, personality disorders, and general non-functioning-ness. Instead of killing off my weirdest parts, getting my brain healed has actually clarified them, getting all the clutter out of the way so to speak.
I defined myself as someone with mental illness for years, and it was a security blanket in a twisted, weird way. Finally letting go of that and trying to see myself as “healthy” (ish) has been terrifying, but also allowed me to realize how much of that “healthiness” might appear to the rest of the world like, “Damn yo, she weird!”
Which is exactly how I want it.
You’re fucked up in the best kinda way. But if I were Victor, I wouldn’t buy you that flashlight knife, just in case.
Also, those voices in your head won’t go away, they just become friendlier. Anyone who says differently is selling something.
Most of the ones in my head speak Spanish. I don’t. Some of the others have British accents. The rest of the time it’s just my mother–who is still alive. I try to listen to her (sometimes). I couldn’t function at all when the medicine took the voices away, so it had to go. I fully understand the dilemma.
Now I can’t get YOUR voices out of MY head!! lol
(I’m pretty sure I can clamber up a snowbank to get to the roof. We actually have a machete, too!)
Personally, I can’t really function without certain medications. Without them perhaps I’d have interesting voices, but I’d be stuck in bed all day arguing with them while I tried to convince myself to at least get up and have a shower. I’ll take boring and productive over interesting and sloth-like any day.
My friend Rhonda turned me onto you just today. Hilarious! I’d have to say I was a much more boring person while I was medicated although my husband would probably say I was much easier to get along with. Ha!
See when to worry about the voices in your head or when to get them to shut the f**k up is when they tell you that you’re stupid, worthless, horrible, etc or that you should harm yourself or others. Don’t worry about those voices being taken away with meds. If you get the right meds you’re still the slightly crazy fun you not the crazy self destructive you. Either way we like you the way you are, and even if your meds made “boring” I know personally I’d still think you were kick ass and full of awesome.
I don’t think you could ever be boring! Maybe the voices will mellow out, and allow you to relax a bit, but I’d bet my favorite pair of shoes that you *can’t* be boring – you’re far too interesting! I’d love to meet you and to hear what the voices are saying today!
Your voice must be on the mystical depression radio in my head too, because I fear the same thing.
You won’t want that “no-machete” voice during the zombie apocalypse anyway….
A couple of thoughts….
1) Right with you Sister! (And I think that Victor should get you the knife with the flashlight built in for Christmas). Back to the normally scheduled program – There is a huge gap between “slightly nuts” and “A danger to Society”, and as long as we stay on the “Slightly Nuts” side, all will be fine. Hang in there….and since it is Christmas…if you and Victor (at least) are in the area, drop me a note and I will cook y’all dinner. I think you would find my Octagonal House interesting…
2) I have mixed feelings about the Machete thing. Often the Voices are amazingly conservative…and how, exactly do they KNOW that being on the roof with a machete is not a good thing!
Have a Merry Christmas
Bee Man Dave
I think as we start to get better, the real us is a jarring meeting… not boring jarring, but also not cougars are waiting in the shrubberies waiting to eat me while I walk the dog kind of jarring. There’s a middle ground somewhere. It’s normal to have these fears. It just means our brains are starting to function in a way that they should.
Where exactly ARE your pants, and does the answer have anything to do with machetes or the roof?
You are you, no matter what meds you are/are not on. You will still be you, no matter what. (Which, when I say this to myself, I realize can be both exhilarating and terrifying.) So, I’ll tell a completely random story.
When I was little, my big brother convinced me that my parents bought me at Kresses (a five-and-dime). I was fine with that; after all, babies had to come from somewhere and we bought many other fine items at Kresses. I was devastated, however, when he told me that my parents were going to return me. Mom must have had a little chat with big bro, since he then told me, “The only reason they can’t return you is you’re from the clearance bin and you can’t take back final sale stuff.”
I was fine with that.
I’d say its a wonderful thing because you’re still sane enough to keep it together. The fact that you have enough wherewithal to question your sanity means you still have sanity. And you’ll always be way more awesome than you realize, and there are a WHOLE lot of people here that would back me up on that.
I have an off day and then blamo! This comes into my world. Thanks. Don’t lose your voices!
You have nothing to fear, because everyone, even really boring normal people, know that roofs are MADE for machetes. Right?? That’s their entire purpose, isn’t it? To give you a raised pulpit from which to yell things while swinging your machete wildly for emphasis?
If not, then it would be entirely impossible to play a proper game of neighborhood dictator. And that would just be ridiculous.
You might want to slide some of those meds over in this direction.
I like that you seem so “normal.” I know it doesn’t feel that way to you. I’m dealing with someone suffering from a mental illness and it is nothing but screaming and death threats lately, I’d just as soon they walk around without pants or just play with a machete once in a while.
We call that “Well Adjusted.”
That translates into something like “not completely bat shit crazy.”
As that wiseman Popeye would say, “I yam what I yam.” And likewise, you are what you are – regardless of how you get there.
Your machete comment makes me think of the post Patrick Rothfuss posted on Facebook on December 6th in which he mentioned that he has a writing axe, er hatchet.
It’s pretty hilarious. If you haven’t read it, I recommend it highly.
My definition of normal is “normal = distance”. Everyone looks normal from a distance, it’s just up close we learn there is no normal. Check out yourself in a group photo, and then a selfie. See, you just illustrated my point.
Now, drama. The difference between good drama and bad drama? You can go away from good drama, or it will notice you’re out of alcohol and go home on its own. Bad drama stays close to you.
Your voices sound WAY more fun than mine. Mine are lazy as hell and just want to eat sweets all day. I love them. 🙂
If your “normal-person” inside-the-head voice is still asking you where your pants are you’re still doing something right.
No worries.
I used to think that way until I looked at some of my family members who say things they shouldn’t with their Outside of Their Head Voices.
I figured, Nah, I’m good.
You’re lucky, my machete voice only ever speaks in the past tense. As in, “dude, you knew you shouldn’t be up there with that machete,” or “dude, you should not have said that to the customs agent.” Yours is much more helpful.
*Love & hugs*
sweetie i think youre A LOT more normal than you think…mostly everyone i know thinks things like you have the courage to say out loud…we love you just the way you are,,,machete and all
I was worried something similar would happen to me when I started taking anti-depressants, but nope. Still weird (if not weirder). Which is good, because my wife’s life would be too boring, and she hates boring.
I’m a little concerned that I keep seeing the word “FALSE” right above the comments number which isn’t a link even though it should be.
Is that like seeing (not pining for) the fnords?
We all have voices in our head. Sometimes they are boring. Sometimes they are hurtful. Sometimes they will cause you to bust a gut.
I take no meds – maybe I should – but the voices are there – and are just a part of me. And I embrace it.
Well, at least the voices aren’t boring you to tears. It’s like having a few maddening house guests, who never leave. Meds will just keep them quiet for a little while.
I hear ya, I sometimes think that someday I want to be crazy enough to believe that I am a pirate, yet sane enough to still function in society. Is that even possible?
Ahh, THIS explains why I’m usually hanging around in just a long shirt-thing. My “put on some pants” voice is hanging out on a break somewhere with the “Get the laundry done, dummy” voice.
I also take meds and my mind wonders and fears that I will become a med zombie . Walking around saying and doing normal things, It almost puts me in a panic. Thankfully, i am able to pat my unicorn, drink several beers and calm down.
I don’t even try to silence the voices in my head. I’m just trying to teach them all to harmonize.
So basically, you’re worried the only voice left will be your mother’s. when Norman Bates was left with only his mother’s voice in HIS head, look what happened!
your fear = totally justified.
Thank you Vernon. Glad to know I’m not the only one who has voices keeping me awake. They tend to get especially raucous at 3 am.
I give you full permission for the machete thing. A roof seems like a good place to need one.
My voices and I have long conversations on the commute to and from work every day. Sometimes they tell me that I have beautiful eyes and that I should totally hit on the cute older guy in the next office who has never looked my way twice. Other times, they tell me I look like shit and my eyeliner’s uneven. But more often than not, they tell me it would be awesome to hitchhike to Canada and learn to make giant wood carvings, or jump naked into the ocean and swim until I grow gills and morph into mermaid form. Because eventually I totally would. Because evolution and magic and shit.
I was thinking about this.same.thing. just this morning. Then I listened to Eminem and Rihanna sing about their voices. We’re all mad here, and short of keeping us completely sedated and drooling, I don’t think that’s gonna change. “I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed…” (that was me singing to you jenny.)
Some people don’t have boring-me voices that tell them where not to take machetes. Those people don’t have large blog followings and best-selling books. They have prison sentences. And not the “in the movie, I’ll be played by Angelina Jolie” kind of prison sentences.
Hmm. I dont think my boring voice would even be that nice. I’m pretty sure it would be a mean, insensitive asshole. “Put your shoes on, no one likes your feet” “Where are your pants, stupidhead?”, “you’re not allowed on the roof with that machete, but if you do go up there- I hope you fall on it”
So yeah. My voice would be a total asshole. I’m glad asshole voice is usually drowned out by “derp!” voice, “this might be a bad idea…awesome!”, voice, and of course the “just add glitter!” voice.
So – at least your voice is only boring…
Well you know what they say, you are only as interesting as the voices in your head.
Lately most of my internal dialogue has been about whether I need to pack it in and go back to work in Corporate America vs. trying to make it as a Professional Virtual Assistant. It doesn’t help that family members keep reminding me that I need a “real” job.
I’ll bet that writers run into this all the time. And I know that artists do. There is nothing not “real” about trying to make a living as a creative person.
Obviously, your voices are more fun and should be encouraged!
Other than the machete on the roof one, ignore that boring voice! My brain keeps lying to me about stuff like what other people think of me. THAT is a voice I could get used to getting rid of!
As long as you are keeping track of your pants, you are all good.
The voices in my head are assholes. And boring.
And this is the point of writing. So the voices in one’s head have something to do. As you know. Obviously.
Jenny!! It just isn’t possible that the voices are more interesting than you. They are your voices my dear! And thank God for the boring voice that attempts to keep you healthy (shoes/pants) and safe (machete’s on the roof)!! IDK, as I was only on meds for a very short time before abandoning them, we didn’t get along too well. You and your voices are amazing Jenny. So brilliant, talented and very, very funny.
It’s funny..because I had this talk with my cut rate therapist last week…if I get rid of all my crazy, will I be boring then? Will I lose all my funny?
She assured me I wouldn’t..but she just an intern..so maybe she doesn’t really know.
You must read “Marbles: Mania, Depression, Michelangelo and Me” by Ellen Forney.
I feel the same way. I’m afraid that I’m actually boring and ordinary. I’m afraid that if I get better I’ll be just like everyone else, and I don’t know if I can deal with that.
Mildly Dangerous, But Not Entirely Dull is the name of my cover band.
I once drove off from my mother-in-law’s house with a machete on the front hood of my car. I don’t recommend it. When the machete flies off at the curve in the road, you have a moment’s flash of panic that it’s going to kill a biker. Then you have to park illegally next to the county reservoir and rummage in the overbrush hoping no one comes by to ask if you need help just as you stand up with a machete, wearing red-paint-spattered yardwork clothes. And then you have to go back to your mother-in-law’s house to explain why you are coming back after you were so insistent that you would be too late going home, even though your husband is staying for an extra day to do more work on the yard & barn.
So that voice saying stay off the roof with a machete? It works for me.
Catherine Harris December 17, 2013 at 12:34 pm
my GramCram (and everyone should have one of those, I SWEAR) used to say “All are mad, save me & thee – and even thou art a little odd.”.
Everyone has voices. You are still you.
And that’s a good thing. 😀
Oh! My dad used to say “everyone is crazy except you and me, but sometimes I am a little worried about you.”
Definitely a good thing. But listen to that voice that tells you about the machete. Because those are more dangerous than any thought that stays in your head.
I hear roofs and machetes are not good combinations. How about you go up on the roof with a couple of daggers instead? That way, in case you trip, you are more likely to be able to fling them away from you so you don’t get cut. Machetes are bigger and heavier, so might still land on you.
@Diane – Just not sickles. Those suckers bounce back when they hit walls or chimneys.
Do you mean to say those voices I hear aren’t normal? But seriously Jenny, if you do go on the roof remember your pants!
You never know what you’ll find on the roof http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/4460826
Funny. My crazy is very very *boring*. I worry that it will take over someday and I’ll be left with only sensible pants and no cool toys to play with.
Just so you know, we all think you’re spectacular – as a chorus or a solo. And even without the roof for your machete carrying, there’s still a lot of places you *can* go! Once your daughter starts dating like mine just did, you don’t even have to go anywhere – just sit on the porch, laughing maniacally & sharpening that machete when she’s expecting a date to come by. Heh. Heh heh. Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh. Ahem. Sorry!
Man, you’re an adult. If you want to be on the roof with a machete, maybe you just need to find the RIGHT machete. If it isn’t that one. Y’know?
I used to think I couldn’t tell anyone when I had thoughts like this because then they would know exactly how crazy I am. I don’t think that way any more. I embrace the crazy because that same intensity also exists in my compassion, my love, my hope, and my laughter.
Thank you for letting us see we are not alone.
Don’t worry Jenny, you’re not at risk of turning normal meds or not.
What’s more the freakiest people I’ve met are the one’s that think they’re normal, and go around judging others because they’re not like them.
Fly your freak flag proudly.
We all argue with ourselves, feel stabby from time to time, or just wish things were easier or just not how they are, the fact we’re aware the world isn’t how it should be means we care enough to try to make it better!
I had a meltdown on the weekend, and felt so crap I belted myself on the head with a frying pan.
The headache lasted a good few days, but the frying pan is now bent out of shape.
If only I could learn to use my super freak powers for good instead of just venting my frustration!
I’m sure most people would have fractured their skull had it been them!
On the off chance you’re being serious, I’m going to give you a serious response. If you weren’t, well, ignore it 🙂
I did lose the voices in my head when I went on meds. It was really fucking lonely for a long time. I’ve lost a lot of the crazy creativity.
But I can function, I went back to school, I have a job I love in the field I always wanted. I am a lot better friend and partner. I haven’t missed work for being crazy since I got my meds stabilized. The scary voices went with the rest of them. I can still write, and more people can follow what I’m trying to say (no more poetry…). I’m still not anywhere near normal.
It was the hardest thing I’ve done, and it took a while to get stabilized, but it was totally worth it.
That sounds pretty normal to me. Unless…that means I’m not normal?
For me, being well only makes those voices louder and more fun, while quieting the other voices — the hateful ones that tell me I’m fat and ugly and stupid and worthless and petty and unlovable. Hush, you. I like the fun voices better.
Funny, my voices would have asked me if I sharpened the machete first, ’cause dull knives are dangerous. And, of course I know where my pants are, in on the bed or on the bathroom floor or maybe the couch. Aw hell, I don’t remember where I left the damn things…
Wouldn’t it be cool if we could audition the voices in our heads so that we could get just the right voice? For the right comments? Then you could have some smooth -insert favorite sexy accent here- voice saying “you look fabulous tonight” .
The possibilities are ENDLESS….
I can see now why you won awards for this blog – it’s stupendous!
I sometimes have a panic attack over the idea that someday my therapist is going to say that she doesn’t think I need to see her anymore. And then I realize that if I am that paralyzed by such a thought, chances are that is not the day that I don’t need to see her anymore!
All of those voices are the different beautiful facets of you that make you unique. 20Xx has often been a difficult year, and finding your blog/reading your book was good laugh therapy and helped me feel less of a lonely misfit. The best present/worst present post and each comment that followed was enjoyed while recovering from a particularly gnarly oral surgery. I’m even thinking about writing down what I hear my particular voices have to say, I let so many people take away the joy I used to find in creative writing and keeping journals but your fabulous humor combined with your brave honesty have made me think I should reclaim that part of myself. Thanks.
this makes me think of a book I just read which was funny as hell. a good Christmas read. the stupidest angel by Christopher moore. one of the characters reminds me of you on the roof with a machete. and it is a good thing… mostly.
Mildly-dangerous-but-not-entirely-dull is the best way to live. I spend my nights putting myself to sleep by planning what I’d do if my loved ones died. It soothes me to have a plan. I’ve decided it’s not weird, it’s practical. Just like your voices – practical information is imparted no matter the topic. It’s a win.
I’m glad most of your replies involved them having internal voices too.And also machete dialogue.
Sometimes it’s my parents or grandparents voice –as in typically “don’t DO that, ya dumbass.”, sometimes a very stephen hawking robotic voice & sometimes it’s my son asking “Mama, why do you have a machete hanging on your bedroom door?” (which was actually out loud, but it’s now on repeat in my head when I walk into my bedroom.)
My answer then was (and is still in my internal voices) “Because. Remember the fuckin Alamo.”
To which he just did the “Ok,”..and he did a I’m-talking-to-a-crazy person-hand gesture…and then backed away.
(it’s a General Santa Anna replica that my dad bought at a gun show. I know the Gen’l wasn’t *there/there* but my dad made me watch westerns with him & it’s my go-to childhood memory of spending time with my dad.)
My son hasn’t seen the Bowie knife under my bed. But my answer then will be “DUH, because zombies & i’d just trip on the goddamned cavalry sword or stab myself falling on the katana — that’s up to you & your sister. Swords are heavy shit & I’m off-balance with my cane all ready.” And then maybe a “Maybe you guys oughtta bulk up a bit & save me. Jesus, do I have to do EVERYTHING??”
Omg, I’m pre-planning conversations with my kids AND my imaginary voices AND flashback convos to my parents & grandparents voices. ALL THE VOICES. There’s too much stuff in our heads and I don’t think my new anti-crazy pills are working.
That whole crazy spiel above was just to say “thanks” to all the other people who admit to imaginary voices. And machete-incidentals. I love you all.
Do you read peoples’ comments and realize you are one of the normal ones? From the successful businessman, to the nerdy computer scientist girl, to the car salesperson, we are all the same. All of us…and not just in this “forum”.
Hmm. Well, as the Barenaked Ladies said, “Won’t it be dull when we rid ourselves Of all these demons haunting us To keep us company”
I am in your tribe . . .
that’s a very southern voice in your head telling you to put your shoes “one!”
Jenny – we love you, but 2 knife posts in a couple of days? Better talk with Victor and get this sorted out. Be safe…
You’ll never be a boring voice in your head. You’re more interesting than many people out here and meds can’t take that away from you. They won’t change your personality, and they won’t take away your sense of humour. And we can all be thankful for that, because you are one of the most insightful, funny, and engaging writers working today. Thanks Jenny.
F*ing spellcheck `mumbles` can’t even spell Anoymous FUkkit … anyway, i just got a machete … it’s hanging on my pantry door. Since I moved down to Savannah, Georgia, i thought it necessary (l’ving in the swamp n’all) with my recent purchase of shin-high boots (so when I go outside in the backyard, if I happen upon a snake, or it happens upon me ~ I will be prepared when i miss whacking its’ head off with my machete, hopefully the boots are thick enough to stop the fangs from embedding itselves? into my shin/skin. Either way, a women down South MUST-HAVE a machete (best $9.98 I spent at Harbor Freight). I must state that I would not be climbing on any rooftops (not unless they were ‘the English rooftops’ like in Mary Poppins ~ although, I don’t think I would enjoy it if Dick Van Dyke wasn’t there singing “Chimney chimney chim chim cheree …”
Thank you, I’ll stop now.
I think it is an indication that you are NOT fucked up.
And a little bit awesome.
x
Some fears are good. When we stop being scared about stupid things, we stop living. Don’t let the fear of being dull kill your spirit. Dance naked at Wal-Mart. OK, not really. Gods know who will read this and decide to act of the idea.
I used to worry that I would go on medication and lose the good crazy along with the pain, but it didn’t happen. I’m still a person who will discuss preferred means of disposing of a body with my ten year old until she shushes me cuz the people in Safeway are looking at us funny. Now I am just waiting until I am old enough to be considered “eccentric” so I can wear a purple raincoat all the time and get some more cats.
Enjoy the voices. 🙂
And one day we will win the lotto and get to be normal and have normal loves….and it is a real legitimate wish!
It’s most definitely a good thing for those of us who are looking to you to give us feelings of solidarity for not being respectable adults in good standing with the morality police.
I’ve been on anti depressants for over four years now. It took a while, but I finally realized the meds didn’t change me, they just helped quiet the circus in my head enough so I could function without as much worry and anxiety. I’m still the weirdo I’ve always been. I can just think a little clearer now. 🙂
I *expect* the voices in my head to be more interesting than me, or at least more interesting than my life. And I’m not just ok with that, I’m fucking thrilled.
Voice in head: What would that look like on fire?
Me: No. Not even smoldering.
Voice: That fire would be so big we could totally toast VW Bugs like marshmallows.
Me: They would taste like carcinogenic Lovebug tears. Stop it.
Voice: Mmm, carcinogens.
FYI if the zombies are coming, then standing on the roof with a machete is ALWAYS acceptable.
Shouldn’t that be “Put some shoes one, y’all?”
That is a conundrum. Just know that those wonderful voices are a part of you and who you are will not go away… take meds when you need to without stressing. That fun, crazy, genuine part of you will always be there, even if you have to look a little harder.
Take the meds. Your body will thank you. Your family will thank you. You’ll still be you, only better….and still funny as hell…..
I worry about the exact same thing. But I don’t seem to be in any danger of recovery any time soon.
It’s those voices that make You, YOU! No one is normal, we all have our dark little secrets. You are brave enough to voice them. Corny I know.. but it’s the truth.
Do you smoke? I don’t.. but sometimes I wish I could just chain-smoke a pack a way… maybe we should do that one day.. but share the pack.. I don’t want to walk away with lung cancer and all.. but an interesting thought and see what we come up with . LOL
And I this is all coming from a blogger that just wrote a blog post called: Giving is a Wonderful Thing.. sheesh.
I really don’t think you could ever be dull. Remember Dr. Who- “There is no such thing as an ordinary human.”
@Monica – I’m posting that on my office IM today. Dr. Who just trumped Dr. Seuss.
CorporateOverlord(TM) needs some frivolity.
Questioning one’s limits and sanity is a sign of an enlightened mind, Jenny.
Of course, what do I know? I could be nuttier than a fruitcake…
Good luck down the rabbit hole, babe.
As long as the voices don’t tell you to murder your husband, there’s nothing wrong with hearing crazy little voices <3
I agree. I have started work on a new team at work and been reassured that I am indeed not as boring as I think I am after seeing them fall about laughing at me ‘meowing’ when I drop things.
one time, when my hubby’s meds were being particularly effective after being out of whack for a long time, I shared with him that my fear was that once he was in his right mind that he wouldn’t love me anymore… and he said “it’s just treatment; it’s not a cure”
and it was reassuring and horribly sad all at the same time. because I love him enough that if he could be “cured” and it meant that he’d not love me anymore…
Sure test of how boring you really are…start writing your annual holiday letter. Yep, that will do it.
I talk to myself all the time in my head, I do silly things and I trip up constantly. I may be labelled many things, but never boring. Ditsy, clumsy, wacky and quirky, maybe 🙂
If being “normal” would translate into dull, well, that would be… dull… A smidge fucked up is so much more fun, and sooo not boring. Stay fucked up. In a merely mildly stabby way, of course.
I have no words of wisdom…sending warm thoughts, hugs, and support.
I dunno, I think that’s a legitimate concern. Not that I think you’d be boring but I think I see where you’re coming from. Spoilers: We’d love you either way.
I’m kinda thinkin’ that your one lonely normal voice would still be pretty amazing, without the aid of the other voices. 🙂 But, lucky you! You have variety!
I understand these fears but I think we are both safe. Now go find those pants!
My voices are my friends…..without them I would be very lonely
Consider, if you will, that your book was bought by many MANY people around the world. Not all of these people have voices in their head, and all of these people *loved* your book, *love* your blog, and think in the exact same marvelous machete-on-roof way. The only voices it will silence are your “I’m not that great” voices. And those voices *should* be silenced.
And we will always be here to support and reconfirm that you’re not filled with boring normal voices – you’re filled with outstanding, spectacularly original voices.
Because machetes aren’t ALL bad.
All the interesting people are crazy.
I silenced the voice in my head that tells me to wear pants a long long time ago. It was for the best. That guy was just annoying.
This is actually a real fear of mine too, like I always say I’m afraid to get better or stop my meds because what if THAT person just sucks?
I think you’re safe though….
Where ARE your pants?
Totally a good thing.
But stay off the roof anyway. And for the last time, put the damn machete down.
Good grief.
I used to have a machete. I need to find my machete!
Nah. That’s what all the good moms say.
I don’t so much have voices in my head; instead, I am known to carry on conversations with myself in my head. Usually this is not a problem and no one knows what is going on, except when I start talking to myself with my hands. That’s when my husband laughs and tells me to stop talking with myself. I can fully commiserate with Gollum…
Not so much voices in my head, but I certainly am haunted by memories of hurtful abusive and demeaning comments from my family, and it’s almost like I can hear those playing in the background like a backing tape from time to time.
Harder to stop sometimes are the meltdowns, but at least now I know it’s because of HF ASD, rather than simply having anger issues or behavioural problems, as my family insisted was the case for so many years.
Sometimes the temptation to self harm – especially during a meltdown is just too hard to resist.
I’ve told my wife about it, and we’ve discussed it, but I’ve not mentioned that it still happens from time to time to my counsellor yet; I know I should, but I’m not ready to go there, as I know it will open Pandora’s box.
Jenny, I love reading your blog, and finding out about your experiences, exploits, achievements and failures.
It’s adversity and problems that test our mettle and make us who we are, and hard as it is for us weirdos, and we’re all weirdos (no such thing as normal), if you changed you’d not be the same person, and I don’t want to be someone else, and neither should you.
Definitely sympathise with those with psych problems though, it’s a hard road, but if that’s your burden there is no other way than to keep plodding along.
One of the words I hear frequently in my head is “MORON!” Oh well. Negative self-talk LOL!!
One of the things that antidepressants do for me (when they are working) is allow me to continue on doing whatever I’m doing and ignore the members of ‘the committee in my head’ who tell me I can’t do this or that or that people are thinking I’m weird…blahblahblah…ad nauseum!
I have to admit, though. You all have WAY more interesting thoughts than *I* do. My committee needs to broaden it’s horizons.
I have been told that I did not have to worry about the voices in my head as long as I didn’t go huh.
Oh la la, I’m so glad other people feel that way. And someone as wonderful as you, too! I always dread how boring I’d be if I didn’t do those things that people call weird. Bit of a silly fear, I guess, but convincing nonetheless.
That’s the jerkass voice that doesn’t want you to be well. Don’t listen to that guy.
With or without the voices, you will always be interesting and wondrous.
Your post reminds me a little of the song David Gilmour wrote about John Lennon’s death (called “Murder”) where he sings:
Did you get rid of all the voices in your head?
And do you now miss them and the things that they said?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2D9TUhIKDbw
Oh thank God. I thought it was just me.
the voices keep shit interesting but we’ll all find you interesting if they leave anyway
It’s a wonderful thing, Jenny.
So Merry Fucking Christmas, from the voices in my head to the voices in yours
I wonder if my voices know your voices. I mean…do they leave us when we go to sleep, or take meds, and go have coffee at some starbucks in an alternate universe? Do they talk about how we interrupt them all the time? How rude.
Obviously I’m not medicated. For now.
Dude, the voices in your head ARE you. There’s nothing dull about you. That’s a great thing.
My brother once went to a party with a machete- really! And the hostess found it and told him, “It’s NOT that kind of party”! I always wondered what kind of party you DO bring a machete to?
The voices in my head are definitely cooler than me. And funnier. Except for the road rage one. He’s not cool at all…
Meds or not, you’ll still have voices in your head. Or maybe we’re all a little off the bubble.
Well, if that same medicine hushes the voices that tell you you’re no good or the ones that tell you other harmful things, then I’d say that’s a risk I’d be willing to take. Don’t worry, though, ain’t nobody got time for pants. 😉
A good thing for sure. And pants should really be optional.
As long as the meds are telling the harmful voices to shut the hell up, they are a good thing. Besides the one that tells you it’s a bad idea to run around on the roof with a machete really isn’t a bad thing. Tell it to hush up about the pants though since pants should be optional!
I feel the exact same way. What if the only interesting thing about me is my fears and my sadness?
Hmmm, I am boring as can be and I don’t have any meds to go off of. 🙁
So, my thought, boring and enjoying life or crazy ass funny and on the edge of darkness? I’ll take boring. But I get the really creative people that go off their meds because they feel it is stifling their creativity. The manic episodes bring so much energy and creativity but then the fall is scary and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone!
Keep moving forward and finding your perfect balance and happiness. I’ll stay a fan and continue enjoying your honesty and wonderful writing style!
Being completely normal is so overrated. 😉
When my husband and I BOTH had total nervous breakdowns in 2002 (we do everything together it seems) one of the questions each of us had to answer on our paperwork (from different therapists in different offices) was “Do you hear voices in your head?” and this really worried us. Especially my husband. Because we hear voices in our heads all the time- you know, making comments about what’s going on, asking if we really needed that cookie, saying we are idiots for forgetting our badges, stuff like that.
So we had this really serious conversation about the question, because neither of us were very confident about our own sanity right then.
I asked him if he knew who the voices in his head were? Did they all sound like him, or was it maybe other people? “Oh, they’re all me… I do know that much.”
“Same here.”
“Well, ok then.”
I concluded that everyone probably talks to themselves on a regular basis and that one was only in trouble if the voices they heard seemed like somebody else. “If you have strangers talking in your head it’s an issue. Otherwise I’m pretty sure it’s not schizophrenia; it’s just an inner monologue.”
Then we curled up and clung to eachother , relieved to have dodged at least one bullet.
I think that you, Jenny, will ALWAYS be interesting, clever, and funny regardless of how much the meds you take. You are pretty amazing, and I don’t think your inner voices could become boring even if they tried. Your voices are part of you- a wonderful part. When the inner voices get too critical you can tell them to piss off, but the ones that make wisecracks about what’s happening and help you see the humor in the situation, or the ones that just ramble off on interesting tangents are to be cherished.
I think if you have at least one voice in your head telling you to do something, then you’re probably not fully boring, and a little safer. There used to be a time when all my voices stopped working and I would forget to put boots on to go outside in the winter. Or I’d forget that eating is an actual part of the day. So really…one voice, even a slightly rational boring one, is probably still a good sign.
It is however a lot more entertaining if you have at least two, so they can argue.
That’s where Army training comes in handy. The boring voice can make the others shut up and get in formation and do pushups of they get too boisterous.
Helpful nonhelpful advice about mental illness, done up as a graphic, the 4th one is fitting: http://s.quickmeme.com/img/90/90ecbb7df0acf5791c737be0fd4185e36e1d428d92527397bda5b0e1d82db72f.jpg
We wouldn’t think this way if it was insulin. Maybe when we and the rest of society start to wrap our heads around the fact that we have a physical illness (and that’s what the bioresearch is starting to figure out), we’ll start to wrap our heads around treatment better as well — along with those pesky details like getting insurance coverage and sick leave benefits and all the other details that make life a little easier to deal with. We can but hope.
That sounds like the depression lying to you. Which I get, I think a bunch of us do, but you can’t let something like that control you.
It sounds silly and trite, but we’ll care about you regardless, even if you’re telling us how to plan for retirement and not how to plan for zombie attacks..