Inside Myself

Inside myself there is another me. Sounds little wired, right? But it’s true. Sometimes I feel like the real myself is trapped inside me.  Most of the time I can’t be just myself, I feel like there are some barrier keeping me away from the rest of the world. My real soul is buried somewhere else! I am walking, I’m eating, I’m talking, I’m doing job but somehow I sense It doesn’t represent the true me. With my friends I act rather quiet and calm; I never talk to others about my feelings or show them. Not even with my friends or family. With strangers I became totally mute or respond with very few words and become like a statue or a robot. I cannot show my true being when I am with others and they think that I am a stupid when I’m not. My whole world is inside me. Nobody can see it looking at me.

I have another strange habit. I continuously talk with myself, more or less all of us do this with ourselves, but mine is exceptionally different from others. When I was little I had a pretty huge imagination! And I believed that all the things in our home for example furniture’s, books, trees were alive. So I would talked to them for hours explaining what I’m doing, what I want to do, what is my dreams and desires or how was I feeling etc. I had some imaginary friends. There was big mango tree besides our pond; in my childhood that tree was my best friend. I used to talk out loud with the tree when I felt down or alone. My mom, my brothers and relatives used to catch me up often doing this.  I have never heard any voices answering back nor did I have any hallucination regarding this. I just constantly feel the need to express the true me or explain my motives or actions to myself and that is why I literally have conversation with myself and my imaginary friends. Sometimes I slip out doing it publicly, people might think I’m a crazy but I can’t stop doing it. Until I explain my activities to myself or share my feeling to me I feel like I am going to die. Talking to myself gives me a feeling of peace.

I don’t know why I do this, the reason may be anything, maybe I ‘m not so close to my family or I don’t feel ease to share my feelings with them. I have very few friends, maybe they just don’t have the time or they are never gonna understand the way I want them to. But that’s nobody’s fault. That is how people are. Different!  And again I feel myself coming back to me. Because I can listen to myself for hours without a hint of fatigue!