What about those voices ? Do they like to tell you what to do ? Do you listen ? Can you ignore them ?
Having a mostly solitary childhood I’ve always had those voices in my head. The company of an internal dialogue and debates. A ceaseless internal narrative. I’ve no way of knowing if this is more or less than most people experience. One thing about those dialogues is that there was no specific character associated with them, no alter-ego personality that is often called the imaginary friend – it’s always been me talking to me, like Mel Smith and Griff Rhys Jones facing each other across the table, only that both are me.
One characteristic of the voice has been a tendency to encourage actions that can lead to a form of self-harm. Things like suggesting that it would be fun to drop the car or house keys down the drain I’m about to walk past. Or one from childhood where I listened to it suggesting I ride my bicycle with my eyes shut and went into the back of a parked car.
I think it was this aspect of the inner voice that brought about fantasies related to BDSM and inescapable, potentially harmful, even deadly, predicaments. The inner voice could make make non-consensual torture fantasies seem really attractive despite telling me that I needed to face and embrace the terror.
Those sort of things are still there, but there are now added dimensions. Part of the whispers have always been about melody. For the longest time they were a periodic combination of a desire to display melody in some manner, mixed with that tiny call to court danger in pushing the limit and risk being exposed. Things such as having given in to the first stage of the whispers and worn skirt and heels, to then feel the voice becoming more insistent that it’s silly to change back to male clothing just to take out the rubbish.
The dialogues of the last few years have been a roller-coaster and have expanded to have different personalities. They are still me talking to me, but more of a round table of different faces – more like the whole of the ‘Not The Nine O’Clock News’ crew instead of just Mell and Griff. The journey through hypnosis has done strange, though I think, good things. One voice that talks in an identifiable way is the me that’s processing suggestions made under hypnosis. I hear words that I know are indicative of my domme rather then me, her manner of speaking rather than mine, though still only in my voice.
A difficult set of voices arose when there was the internal struggle between the old ‘him’ and the new melody. Still both me, yet arguing about priorities and needs as they battled for control of the primary ego.
I very rarely hear ‘him’ any more. The main internal voice is melody, her mannerisms and arguments within the dialogues are quite different to what ‘he’ used to talk and argue about. And what has reasserted itself is that nagging aspect to push the boundary of fear. It’s this that drove me to wear heeled boots as work attire. That decided it was time to flaunt earrings. To subtly enhance the daily feminine image by dying my hair. To risk public disapprobation by increasingly pushing the female style and attributes in public and social settings. The voice nags away and builds up until I inevitably give way. And what’s so different now is that the other part of the voice, the bit that seems to come from my domme, says that there is no terror, when the step is made it’s done with a confidence I could never have previously imagined.
The way that particular voice speaks to me is also what enables me to seek D/s with her and let go of all fear when the rational voice loves to list all the potential dangers and traps. The equivalent of the child closing his eyes and hoping he’s not going to crash into the back of a car.
There is a downside, though. These new aspects to the internal voice give rise to intense questioning that lead to bouts of anxiety and depression that were never there before. They can create a darkness and inner struggle where they suggest there’s a warm comfort to be found in closing my eyes and drifting away, to solve all the strife by embracing the warm darkness and not coming back.
I’m not sure that there’s anything sinister in this. I’ve had a whole new universe open up and I’m exploring strange parts of my inner self that have never spoken up before. Only that sometimes it can become overwhelming and it’s so tempting to retreat in to the false havens the inner voices offer as illusionary comfort.
Describing the inner voices makes me sound crazy. All I can say is that if they weren’t there, then I really would go crazy.