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Sophie Keeps Me Up at Night (Or: My Inner Voice and I Need to Talk)

  • 11 minutes ago
  • 3 min read

"Hey, you should get up and check that you closed the garage door."


Wait—what? Who is that?


I see 2:30 AM on the alarm clock next to me. (Yes, we still have an old-school alarm clock in our bedroom.) The red numbers are shouting at me to go back to sleep because it's literally the middle of the night.


But that little voice is putting doubts into my head. What if I mistakenly didn't close the garage door? "Oh no, what if robbers got into the house? What if our lawn mower was stolen?"


Well, I'm up now. I may as well go check.


Turns out—it was closed the whole time.


When Your Inner Voice Gets LOUD


I don't know about you, but that little inner voice I assume we all have (since you can't hear mine and I can't hear yours) is the loudest for me when I wake up in the night now.


Clearly this menopause journey must have something to do with it, but my paranoia about really unrealistic things that I could normally rationalize at noon are somehow my biggest anxieties at midnight.


The Good, The Bad, and The Bullying


Our inner voice can be such an amazing guide in our day-to-day lives. It helps me think through what I'm going to say before I get on a phone interview. It helps me brainstorm ideas for my writing—either this blog or fun articles or my book outline.


It can be a nag, too, telling me to get my butt up and do something instead of sitting here typing away. It taps me on the shoulder and says, "Don't you have some dishes to clean downstairs?"


You know how it is. It can be your best friend, pushing you to do well and then congratulating you after: "Great job, I knew we could do it!"


But it can also be your biggest bully, pushing your anxiety buttons and telling you: "You can't do this. What were you thinking?"


What Science Says


It's funny how we never talk about our inner voice. I was curious, so I started asking the question: "Why do we have that inner voice, and does it change as we age?" (I said that out loud—not just in my head.)


According to Science News Today, our inner voice is "that invisible narrator. That endless commentator on your every move, mistake, hope, and hesitation." It's a "psychological phenomenon so universal, yet so intimate."


We aren't born with it. It forms as we grow to help us process life. Scientifically, it's part of the human brain, but the voice radiates from different parts depending on what's happening.


For example, it may be the prefrontal cortex if we're weighing options. It may be our amygdala yelling if we're in danger.


It's not fully understood, but when it speaks, it pulls from every memory, experience, and version of yourself—even if it isn't the truth.


The Physical Cost of Negative Self-Talk


Here's where it gets serious.


According to Super Age, negative self-talk can actually affect us physically as we age: "Negative self-talk, especially the kind that's chronic and critical, can activate your stress response, releasing cortisol and inflammatory cytokines."


However, the good news is that if we work on being more calm, optimistic, and encouraging in our self-talk, we can actually repair that damage.


Talking Back to Your Inner Voice


Of course, it's not that easy to just roll over at night and go back to sleep, reassuring yourself that you're not dumb and you know you shut the garage door. (Or did I?)


The people at Super Age actually recommend talking back to your inner voice. You can respond by saying something like, "I know you're trying to help, but this is keeping me awake."


Some people actually name their inner voice so they can have a more productive conversation. (Hmmm... Marge? No, maybe Sophie.)


My New Strategy


I'm going to give it a try. Give myself a little pat on my heart and reassure myself, "I've got it," as much as I can.


Sophie may be keeping me awake, but I'm going to make sure she's good and tired tonight—because I talked to her all day today.


And if she wakes me up at 2:30 AM again to check the garage door? I'm going to tell her, "Sophie, we've been over this. The door is closed. Now let me sleep."


We'll see how that goes.

 
 
 
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