There are days where I clock in and clock out and in those 8 hours have never spoken a word.
There are days where the only dialogue I get outside of my house is the total charged for my groceries.
There are days I spill my guts through texts and emails because that’s the only outlet I have.
I feel like my conversational skills have atrophied and when I open my mouth, I am clueless on how to share what I’m thinking or don’t even know what to say. As my mouth moves, my brain cringes at the vomit I half-heartedly conjured.
I feel like sometimes I disregard my feelings because it’s too hard to accurately portray them. Or I don’t sufficiently give my cause. And I hate that, because those are the only swords I have that convey mental capacity and tenacity.
I feel like my vocabulary and thoughts only work on paper or typed out from a keyboard.
One of the compliments I have often genuinely received from others is that I’m a good listener. I wish I could equally project myself and cultivate my speaking ability to match my propensity to listen.
I do enjoy listening. But I also want to be heard.