Are You Talking to Me?

There's a popular belief that talking to oneself is a sign of genius. If that holds true, please consider me the world's foremost genius. Because I definitely talk to myself. A lot.

This is a rather embarrassing admission; I've never known anybody to willingly proffer this information without at least some reluctance. But with age comes a distinct lack of caring what others think. Don't get me wrong, it still embarrasses me to no end when somebody walks in on me muttering to myself, but at least now I know this is a fairly common practice among people, based on a number of articles I've read and conversations I've had recently (with other people, not myself).

Yes, I talk to myself. Don't lie, you do too.

What do I talk to myself about? Nearly everything. From trying out a difficult speech I'm going to later barrage someone with, to repeating movie lines, it all comes out. I even go over previous conversations, coming up with things I wish I would have said at the time. Why does this have to happen out loud? I truly have no idea. But I do notice that certain things trigger more self-talking for me, such as lack of sleep, stress or too much caffeine. Along with many other physical issues I experience when I ingest significant amounts of caffeine, talking out loud at odd times is one side effect. I've actually startled myself while hopped up on caffeine when I "come to" out of a deep conversation with myself, previously not having realized my thoughts were audible. This is one of the many reasons I try to avoid caffeine.

In addition to talking with myself, I have a tendency to take up conversations with inanimate objects. There can be absolutely nobody around, yet I feel the need to speak out loud to an object. For example, if I'm trying to cook and my spatula breaks, is it really necessary to direct disparaging utterances at my utensil? Isn't it weird to say something to the effect of, "Really? NOW you break? When I'm in a rush and just want a tasty pancake? C'mon, spatula, what the hell?!" Or how about aiming comments at my own body parts like, "Well hey there, hair. You're not looking too bad today." It's pretty odd, I'm not gonna lie. But I do it. All. The. Time.

For a while, I actively hoped nobody had set up any sort of recording devices in my home for fear of revealing my penchant for talking to myself and everything around me. But now I figure if there is some sort of recording device, I just hope my stalker is amused by my outbursts. (Note: this is not an invitation to bug my home or to set up secret recording devices. However, if there is already one in my home, I just ask to split any profit you bring in from internet sales of the audio/video.)

So is this really a sign of genius, as the old adage suggests? Or perhaps an overly active, overly creative brain? I'm not sure, but I doubt it. As long as it's not a sign of the alternative--schizophrenia--then it's alright with me.