It’s amazing how easily you can forget someones voice.
I spent a lot of years with people, be them step-siblings, pretend friends or family members, and yet…yet I cannot recall a single voice for so many of them. Some of these are people I spent so much time with, a number of years close to, and still…I can picture their faces clear as day, but their voices…it’s impossible for me to recall them. Perhaps it’s because humans are more visual than auditory creatures, that would be one reason at least, but I still think it’s interesting because some of them were people I did care about. If this was just happening to people who hurt me, people I hated, people I wanted to forget, that’d be one thing. Blocking them out so I could move on. I’d accept that. But this happens to people I loved, like my grandparents. Ex girlfriends. It just confuses me is all.
But maybe I’ve just got a rather shitty memory. I mean, I obviously can remember some things with perfect clarity, like rooms, but when it comes to other things, I can’t seem to even remember what I ate yesterday. The thing is, I can remember songs with no problems, I can recite entire film scripts from memory, I can recall whole podcasts after listening to them a few times, but when it comes to just voices, and only voices from people I’ve known, I can’t remember a single one if I’m not still interacting with them on an audio day to day basis. The worst part is that I hate my own voice, so being online for as long as I’ve been since the AOL days, texting, chatrooms and more all are a godsend to me. If I don’t have to listen to myself, I will feel so much happier. Why do I hate my own voice? Well, part of it’s because I wish it sounded more feminine, but also because for as long as I can remember, people have been telling me to shut up, be quiet, or some variation of those sentiments. Because of that, I feel like if I open my mouth, it’ll somehow anger somebody somewhere.
What really sucks is the people I love the most are the voices I can no longer remember, and the people who’ve hurt me are the voices I still hear to this day, like my mother or the friend I lost this past summer. It’s like my brain has been conditioned to believe that I deserve to suffer and feel uncomfortable, partly because people have told me that I deserve to suffer and be uncomfortable, so those are the voices it does remember. But the people whos voices I want to remember? My grandmother? Old, close friends? No bueno, senorita. No. I must, at all times, acknowledge those who’ve hurt me, even if they aren’t hurting me anymore. I think, the only positive I can parse from this, is that my brain does this so I don’t let my guard down. So I go, “Ok, I remember how poorly I’ve been treated, and I am not letting myself be treated that way anymore by anyone again.” That’s the only conclusion I can come to that has a happy ending to it.
So I don’t remember the voices of those who loved me, those I cared about. But…sometimes, when I dream, I see them, and I hear them, and it’s like they’re there again, and for a little while, I feel okay again.
Like this post? Then you might like some of my other stuff, like my depressing space webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry” or my new site “Sad Party”, where I encourage people to share how badly they feel so others can not feel so alone. If you like this stuff, you could also maybe donate to my SquareCash. It’d be greatly appreciated. Thanks!