Intrapersonal Conversation

 

      I talk to myself.

      I have always been aware that I did, but I never realized that I actually vocalized out loud to myself, until today.

      I was driving to town and forgot to stop off at the store, then I completely missed the turn for the post office, and in acknowledging my unconscious behavior, I said out loud (shouted) “I’m losing my bloody mind! Where is my head? Focus! What is the problem?!” When I realized I was madly shouting at the windshield, I said, “I am losing my mind. I’m talking to myself….out loud!” Then I affirmed my madness by continuing with , “I am still talking to myself….I’m a freak!” and quickly turned on the radio….full blast.

      I guess we all do it sometimes (?) and I remember my grandfather mumbling to himself often. He’d shuffle around the house with a disturbed look… like he was angry with the Chinese, or missing a slipper or something, and I’d hear him barely audibly cursing and rambling on about the ‘kids today’ and the ‘God damn French’. Guess he never really spoke to himself out loud, although I did hear him loudly talking to the television one night as he praised the wonderful orchestral rendition of “Lara’s Theme”, and the lovely dance piece in an episode of the Lawrence Welk Show. I always figured it was a symptom of his age or loneliness, but now it occurs to me that it might be a congenital condition!

      I started paying attention to my unrestrained outbursts and realized that they were more often than I had originally suspected, only that I had ingeniously disguised them as conversation…..with my dog! I’ve gone bonkers. I obviously don’t expect my doggie to respond to my questions and concerns, but somehow I continue to speak.

      “Wow, Hamlet, it sure is cold out. Should I go get a coat? You stay there and I’ll be back in a minute. Do I need sunglasses?” (As if my canine knows what the hell a minute is, or gives a hoot about my eyeballs.) He just wants to go poop in the woods on our walk. And when I tell him to watch the house while I’m gone, do I really think that he knows what I’m saying? What would I do to him if my house was robbed? Lecture him on staying more focused and listening more carefully next time? Why don’t I just ask him to put in a load of laundry and start making dinner? Maybe he could even help with math homework as things progressed. Come to think of it, I once saw a dog on “60 Minutes” that counted….

      But it goes beyond those simple chitchats as well, because I even confer with him about certain important issues.

     “Ham, I have to do something about the new curriculum at school. I’ll be calling someone. You watch, heads are gonna roll!” Or “I can’t figure out the banking statement, bud! Something is awry. What could be wrong?” And “Is it just me, or does my hair look dull today?” I do it a lot…shoot the breeze with my dog…..because I think he listens….and he definitely never complains. I could yak at him all day long (fyi – I don’t), in a pooch parley, and he’d only look at me with doggie love and total dedication. What a pal. What a buddy. What an excuse for my insanity….

     So there you have it. I chew the fat with my dog.