Cacophony

This was a Facebook post from 4/12/2015

On most days, there are at least twenty television sets playing twenty different channels simultaneously in my head. Some play back sweet memories from my life. They are grainy and sepia-toned, but they are warm and comforting, and I like to stand and watch them, sometimes. Some play out my dreams and wishes, in soft pastels, with bluegrass music playing softly in the background. I like to stand and watch those, too. I suppose I should admit that there is at least one that broadcasts in shades of red. The music is smooth jazz, and, yeah, occasionally I look at that one, but mostly I try not to think about it.
There are sad channels, too. Fuzzy black and white images of heartbreak, lost loved ones, and love lost. I don’t mind these channels, but I try not to dwell on them.
Some of those sets play out my current concerns. Their volume depends on the stressfulness of the concerns. The music that plays is like the score of a suspense thriller, allowing me to relax in places, and then jolting me unexpectedly, always keeping me on the edge, my heart racing.
I have grown mostly accustomed to the cacophony in my head. It’s part of who I am, and most of the time, I like who I am.
But then there are those sets that replay moments I’d like to forget. It seems that these sets are the most plentiful. They are larger, louder, and the pictures are in high contrast. Nothing but HDTV when it comes to reliving these moments. Their theme music is angry, rage metal, which sounds to me like cars smashing together. There is the “Stupid things I Have Said” channel. There is the “Why Did I Let that Person Treat Me that Way?” channel. There is the “Things I Wanted to Say but Didn’t Think of Until it was too Late” channel. “Why Didn’t I Choose That Path Rather than this One?” “I’m a terrible teacher, dog mama, sister, friend, daughter, Catholic, human.” “God, Look How Fat I’ve Gotten!” “Is that ANOTHER gray hair? Another line in my face?”
Every way that I turn, there is another, blaring loudly, competing with one another for my attention, drowning out the more pleasant channels.
Most days, I can remember to bring my headphones, and only plug in to the channels I want to watch. I can still hear the others, muffled through, but this is what I want to focus on at the moment, and I can.
Some days, however, I am tired, or sick, or worried, and in my distraction, I forget the headphones, and I am assaulted by the noise and the pictures. It is those days, that I want to crawl under the covers and hide. It is these days in which I am glued to the sofa, unable to do anything other than distract myself with books or video games or food.
I lost my headphones for a while, and haven’t been taking good care of myself. A good counselor, great friends, and the Easter Vigil and Retreat that I attended have helped me to find them.