She saw the flier pasted to a power pole on main street and was intrigued. ‘Support group forming for sufferers of “Pesky voices in my head syndrome.” Let’s meet at the bistro on St. Clair this Tuesday at 7pm, sip some java and chai, and share our stories. All are welcome! Together let’s probe this phenomenon and what it means for those of us who have friends in our heads that we talk to.’ She was excited by the prospect of meeting other people who suffered like she did, and made a note in her calendar for the event.
The bistro was packed with young and old attendees, as the host, a recovering clinical psychologist, set the stage for the crowd by asking each participant to give a brief statement of their personal experience with pesky voices.
“When I’m emotionally fraught the voices sound like demons toying with me,” the first speaker confided. “It’s like having petals of dark roses floating in my mind. A certain sweet but thorny dialogue. I’ve found that a stiff martini silences the cacophony. Thank goodness for gin. Not forgetting the vermouth, of course!”
“Me too!” another speaker said quickly. “I prefer bourbon though. I’ve learned to ignore the shouters and pay closer attention to the whisperers I hear. Only the nasty voices yell at me, and I had enough of that from my parents, boyfriends, and bosses.”
The host prodded the participants to reveal, if possible, some of what they were hearing in their heads. A girl spoke next, her fingers suffering from what appeared to be paper cuts or razor slashes.
“I work at a law firm as a paralegal. There’s a dialogue that goes on in my head all day long, where one voice tells me I’m useless, another voice tells me, ‘chin up girl!’, while another reminds me of the voice my boss uses when he wants something from me. It’s all quite confusing and affects my job performance.”
“The voices I hear sing songs,” another person volunteered. “I don’t recognize any of the tunes, but there is a calming effect on me. Could it be that the powers that be have mandated that there be background music or noise wherever we go, even at the damned gas pumps, so that we’re less likely to hear our own pesky voices? It’s all so confusing to be human, if you ask me.”
A man wearing dark glasses spoke next. “I’ve had voices tell me, ‘Hit her! Don’t put up with her bullshit,’ when my wife and I tussle. Of course I know not to hit her, and never would, but I hear the voices anyway. So I call out in my thoughts, ‘Please help me wash away this anger!’ And suddenly my anger evaporates. What’s going on in my head?”
The host asserted, “History is filled with accounts of people who did really bad things, who claim that there were voices commanding them to do their evil deeds. What we’ve found is that anti-psychotic regimens typically silence those voices, which begs the question, should we and why would we silence those pesky voices?”
A young woman, wearing a formidable pair of headphones said, “I wear these headphones regularly to mask the voices I hear. Those voices were telling me that I was a waste of space on earth, and should make room for others. It was scary! What works best for me is Bordeaux and Bach.”
An older gentleman stated, “Regularly in the course of my day I would hear a calm voice say to me, “You are what you eat, you are what you think, you are what you do. That’s what the Dalai Lama said to you! It would make me chuckle and my day would brighten after hearing that! And I don’t even know who the Dalai Lama is. Is he a rapper?”
The host replied, “It’s easy to differentiate the rough and unruly voices from all the others we hear in our heads. That’s a positive and affirming message you heard. It could be that you are on his wavelength. He’s more influencer than rapper. Remember always, the psychiatric field is less a science and medical art than it is pure speculation and experimentation, with sex, money, and power involved. Especially the psychiatrists with their fixation with drugs.
The man wearing dark glasses said, “There’s a park I go to by the hidden falls down by the river, where I fish and listen closely to the pesky voices that have tormented me all my life. Lately I’ve been hearing things like, ‘In matters of the heart, words begin the downward plunge.’ Along with, ‘You live and you die. Get used to it.’ Or, ‘Face it. It is what it is.’ This morning I kept hearing, ‘Come hell or high water you’ll walk the endless tightrope, or else!’ It’s all quite confusing.”
The night finished with the host thanking all and inviting them to return in a week’s time.
CP Butchvarov 2024