Talking to the void

I love the idea of keeping a journal. I love the idea of writing for therapy. I love the idea of free thinking/writing and losing yourself to the page. Unfortunately, I have a terribly, horribly, wickedly mean inner critic. I should give her a name… maybe by giving her a more distinctive identity I can learn to yell back. But, for now, she lives rent free in my head and critiques everything I do, unquestioned and unchallenged- especially when I try to be open and authentic.

When I say she is terribly, horribly, wickedly mean, I am not understating her actions. She does not allow me to pass a mirror without a nasty word. “Good god! You are gross!” is a common phrase I hear. My current 5’5″ 155 lb frame isn’t svelte by any means, but neither is it obese. I am active. I work out regularly. I try to eat right, but I also love sugar! (And the evening glass of wine.) Which, I know, are added empty calories that keep that last 15ish lbs from being shed. 15ish lbs my critic will NOT let me forget. She is forever informing me that every person I talk to is focused on my weight and silently judging me on how fat I am. She insists I never leave the house without my hair done and makeup on to compensate for my disgustingness. It doesn’t matter how on-point my outfit might be or what a fabulous hair day I am having. No. I can never be okay because I am fat. That is all she sees and that is all she informs me anyone sees.

My outward appearance isn’t the only place she is wicked. I get worried when I ask Chat GPT several follow-up questions to my original query. She is in my head telling me the ai bot is getting annoyed with my requests. The ai bot! If the computer is bothered by me, what are the living, breathing people I interact with thinking? Dear god, it’s not good! She has me convinced my therapist dreads our sessions. My therapist, bless her heart, denies this entirely, but my critic is not convinced.

And this is why I can’t bring myself to journal! She reads the words and is thrown into fits of cruelty! Her voice is a ringing cacophony in my ears: “You are a mess,”; “You are ridiculous,”; “You are crazy,”; “You are unappreciative,”; “Your writing sucks,”; “Your thoughts are not fit for reading.” Many is the poor journal that has been ripped up and burned after re-reading the entries written on their pages. She is relentless.

Let’s call her Julie.