When I was little I had a sore throat and thought I was losing my voice because I could no longer say anything. I then tried to communicate this to my mum through writing. But I was a little kid and my writing was horrendous so it took me a long time to get her to understand that I thought something was wrong with my vocal chords. And eventually I stopped speaking because I literally thought I could speak no more. So, my mum rushed me to the GP and tried to get them to check on me. But by that time everything started working again and I didn’t want to tell her that anything was the matter. So, I just kept quiet for a long time. But, by the end of the day, I had to tell her and she was so angry with me. I remember because every time I think of her face I remember the anger and disappointment and just general worry she had before I had told her the truth.
I was so scared telling her but I felt that I had too.
Another time I stopped talking was when I was 12 or 13 and I had the first bout of depression. I know I talk about depression like it’s a casual thing, but trust me when I say, it was not a casual thing. Anyway, I didn’t talk a lot during this time and there was one time in particular when I didn’t speak for 2 weeks. I guess I wanted to see how long I could last without anyone realising. (No one really did.) I don’t know how I did it but I did it. And when I started to talk again it was the most horrible thing ever. My voice was creeky and quiet and I didn’t know how to pronounce words anymore. I didn’t enjoy it too much. After that, I aimed to say something to someone at least once a day. It was hard for me, but something I felt I needed to do.
There are even times now when I don’t talk. When I wake up not wanting to say anything to anyone. Not because I’m upset or angry but because there’s no reason to. Like that saying goes:
“A wise man thinks first before he speaks and a fool speaks before he thinks.”