M Sometimes my head is so full that I’m afraid it’s going to burst. Then I urgently have to go to air out my brain and walk my thoughts. Outside they run across meadows and climb trees, chase squirrels and play slides on the black ice. They wrestle with each other, roll around in the dirt and jump from the highest branch into the snow.
After a moment of pure exuberance come back to me and breathlessly tell me what you have experienced. This is the only way my head can calm down to some extent, only through constant movement. My thoughts need plenty of space, fresh air and, above all, unlimited space to run wild. They are like a bunch of excited, yapping dogs. Loud, always in the way and difficult to train.
They yap all day and also at night, although less enthusiastically. At least six or seven thoughts at the same time fight for my attention every second. They say amazing things and notice a lot because they are good observers. They make me laugh and are full of empathy and affection.
But unfortunately they are also incredibly tiring because they just never shut up. They accompany everything I see, hear and do with their comments, their singing, their ideas, their favorite words. They sabotage each other by constantly interrupting each other. And when I want to turn to one, the next comes and pulls me away – and that’s how it’s been my whole life.
Dressed up for a party
I really like the little yappers, they mean a lot to me. But they also make my life difficult. Because they are the reason why I didn’t listen to the teacher’s instructions the third time at school, why I couldn’t concentrate properly in my classwork and why I sat around in the afternoon because of sheer exhaustion and stared into space instead of studying.
Their incessant chatter meant that I was often not invited to birthdays as a child. And then again, later on people wanted me to be there at parties. But only to be entertained by the excitement of my thoughts, which I would rather have nothing to do with during the day.
It scares people when wild thoughts constantly run around everywhere, tearing down fences, destroying flower beds or even pooping on the sidewalk
Many people wrinkle their noses or roll their eyes when my thoughts wander around the corner. They point out that so many active minds in Germany are required to be kept on a leash. But when I try to hold on, the rope digs deep into my fingers until I bleed. Or I get tangled up and end up falling and it all hurts a lot.
But I also know that it scares people when wild thoughts constantly run around everywhere, tearing down fences, destroying flower beds or even pooping on the sidewalk. They don’t want to be jumped on by dirty paws and sniffed by wet snouts. She is bothered by the uncontrollability, but also by the volume and the chaos.
Sometimes just screaming helps
They look at me reproachfully, as if I hadn’t thought before I bought five, six, seven Tölen in the city at the same time. Or as if I were unable to take consistent action. They say: Others also manage to concentrate their thoughts and not constantly blurt out inappropriate comments. You just have to make an effort.
It drives me crazy myself, this constant Barking for attention. Sometimes I have to scream with them. Because I can barely hear my own words over the noise. Then they’re quiet for a moment, as if they were in shock at my outburst, and I hear the blood rushing in my ears.
But then they start chattering again, cautiously at first and then louder and louder. And while I have to laugh uncontrollably at one person’s idea and feel like crying at the other person’s remark, I have to make an incredible effort again so that those around me are not disturbed too much by the conflict of my intrusive thoughts.
And then, when I feel like my head is overheating from all the effort and volume, then I have to get out. And my thoughts come with me. They never leave me alone.