
I’m having a lot of trouble dealing with talking today.
Reading and writing is completely different — it’s the talking that’s a problem for me. My brain is not in the mood to process vocalized thoughts. It’s in action mode, and when I’m “seeing” in my head all the steps I have to go through, someone talking to me really disrupts my thought process and irritates the living daylights out of me.
I just don’t feel like I have the bandwidth — no, it’s more than that. I don’t feel like devoting the bandwidth to verbal discussion. If someone wants to talk to me, they can write it down or draw me a picture.
It occurred to me this morning, while my spouse was talking and talking and talking about all the things we need to take care of, that some people just talk to make themselves feel better. They aren’t interested in communicating. They aren’t interested in listening. They aren’t even interested in making sense to anyone else. They just want to self-soothe with words, because it makes them feel better.
Augh! Please. It’s so frustrating and irritating and counter-productive. Talking should be reserved for communicating ideas that need to be acted upon or processed by both people, not just soothing the frazzled nerves of the person speaking. It’s really inconsiderate and narcissistic to go on and on, without regard for anyone except yourself. It’s all about your nerves, your anxiety, your pain — not about anything necessary or productive or useful for anyone else.
Anyway, that’s my little rant for the morning. I’m having a good morning, actually — very quiet, aside from the chatter. And I’m working from home today, so we can go pick up the new car we got.
It’s all good.
Quiet is nice.
Onward.
Some people just like to hear themselves think.
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I am that talker, sometimes, I also “know” that talker. There are times when I just keep on talking because I need to feel “heard.” It may appear to be self-soothing, but consider whether it might be someone signalling that they need a real response: some real focus and attention.
When my daughter was in second grade and I was a mad computer programmer working night and day from home, she suddenly stopped talking, and would stand next to my chair, frantically trying to communicate in sign language. Slowly it dawned on me that she wanted me to LOOK at her.
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Agreed, but what about the rest of us? Do we not matter?
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