When a moment of quiet washes over me, sometimes I feel relief, but other times it sends me into a panic. Something about the silence changes me, depending on my present mood. There's a difference in comparison of my good and bad days to most others. I can be stressed to my very limit, I could get into an argument with my husband, the kids can be driving me crazy, I could have a screw up at work, and all of that combined, as long as I'm not thinking about me, those are my good days. My bad days, on the outside all can be well, nothing out of the ordinary, it's the thought process that's running through my mind. If I can't get away from myself, then to me, it's a bad day. A day I wasn't able to block my own thoughts.
On my good days, silence is an end all. It seems to assist in the bad, wearing me down, and bringing me in, nearly like a black hole, it seems futile to even try to stop it. But on my bad days, silence is my sanctuary. It's a little weird how it works. I don't like to be alone in my head, thinking only of myself. It allows for too much self revelation and exploration, and about 90% of the time, I don't like what I find. So when everything is hectic, and there's no time for me, but I still manage to be able to focus my energy on everyone else, well that comes as a relief to me.
So little time is given to the silence for me, in my day to day world. It's only in a moment of desperation I beg, plead, demand my quiet. It's solace and comfort to quiet the inner chattering of my mind, is a dear friend. But silence for me on a good day, only brings pain, pain I feel so deeply inside, I crave to feel it literally. I've mostly moved past my old habits and ways, but it doesn't mean that the desire and want is not there. I think it always will be as long as there is silence on a good day.
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