I can recall many moments in which I have been utterly immobilized by hypothetical, internal dialogues. It's difficult to identify at the time that it occurs but in hindsight it seems that it usually begins at some point during periods of extreme stress.
I remember, for example, when working on a homework assignment as a child and getting stuck on a particular question, I would experience a spike in anxiety at the thought of being unable to complete the assignment. Instead of taking a break, asking for help or looking through textbooks or notes I would freeze and start catastrophizing about the outcome of my situation. The anxiety would become so intense that I would begin to feel disembodied, losing track of my position in space and time, with all of my energy and focus turning inward as a flood of jumbled thoughts became voices, and the voices became so loud that they almost seemed audible. Becoming completely overwhelmed by the internal noise left little room for rational thought which meant that I had seemingly no way of escaping the experience.
Some of these jumbled thoughts would take on the voices of other people that, in some way, were connected to the subject or situation that had prompted the experience. For example, I would imagine the voice of my teacher asking me to turn in my assignment and ask why I had not completed it or why I wasn't ready to turn it in. Instantly it would trigger an internal dialogue between my self and the imagined, future version of the other person. I would respond, often trying to fabricate a story for lack of being able to explain what I was really experiencing. The other, imagined person would push back on my explanation, prompting me to try and navigate my way through the confrontation with more fabrications or nonsensical explanations and after a while of back-and-forth the dialogue would collapse, reverting to another jumbled mess of thoughts and noise and the process would begin all over again. In the worst cases the internal back and forth would persist for hours on end - the dialogue between my self and the other person materializing and collapsing dozens of times before psychological exhaustion would finally cause me to shut down completely. It felt nearly impossible for me to consciously recognize what was happening in the moment and I never remembered when the thoughts and noise would stop. Sometimes it would be hours or even days after these experiences had passed that I would remember what had happened.
This is one reason, among many, that addiction and avoidance played a huge role in my younger years. The alcohol, drugs, gaming and many other forms of self-destructive behaviour would keep me disengaged from the world around me and would insulate me from responsibility and commitment. The less I participated in the world, the less I would experience these immobilizing internal dialogues. The more substances I abused, the more I would dampen the noise. The more I sabotaged myself, the more control I had over my own shortcomings and failures.
As a result of these experiences I have missed out on many opportunities and experiences throughout my life. After going through one of these episodes I would typically avoid the activity which had triggered the internal dialogue in the first place. It directly caused me to avoid completing tasks, attending social gatherings, engaging in therapy, participating in relationships with family and friends, committing to education and work obligations and many other endeavours that otherwise would have lead to positive outcomes and enrichment. It has been a great source of shame in my life as it often left me feeling like a failure. Over time I came to accept the idea that others would see me as lazy, uninterested and unenthusiastic with no drive or ambition.
It's difficult to say exactly what this behaviour stems from or how it plays out in a neurological sense, though I believe that it is a direct result of persistent early childhood trauma, not being able to talk about things and, when I tried, not being heard, taken seriously and never having anyone talk things through with me. I can distinctly remember twice in my childhood when I tried to explain my situation to adults that were supposed to be concerned with my welfare and that in both cases the outcomes were far less than desirable.
Once was when I was around 10 years old, at school, lined up with several other kids who also hadn't completed homework from the day before. We were all waiting to be dished out our punishment, which on that particular day was three excessive swings of a cricket bat to the backside. I broke down at my turn and explained to the teacher why I had not completed my homework, a direct result of the turbulence at home the night before. Still, I took the three strikes to the butt and the teacher assured me that he would call my parents to talk to them about it. Nothing happened.
The second time was when things became so bad one night that I reluctantly decided to phone the police. I remember the moment they arrived, their headlights beaming down our driveway and past my bedroom window. I heard faint muffled conversation in the distance and after a while things went quiet and settled down for the evening but quickly escalated again within the next few days. Even when desperately reaching out to the people that were supposed to have the highest level of authority and power in our community and were employed to protect the most vulnerable citizens, nothing happened.
Neither of these attempts to desperately express a plea for help had any positive effect on my situation. Not even once did any adult try and talk things through with me. Not once did any of them follow up in the days and weeks after the events. Not even once did anybody seem interested in helping the child that could not help himself.
I still have moments, under stress, where i get overwhelmed with that same jumble of thoughts and the hypothetical conversations with them inside but, through acknowledging and learning more about my responses to the traumatic stress I faced as a child, I'm beginning to identify these experiences more effectively and beginning to learn how to reach out for help again. I'm learning how to anchor myself in the present and how not to hold on to catastrophic thinking and overwhelming anxiety when I need help the most.