It was late one evening and I was walking around the perimeter of campus. I had done this often before because I would need to run away from the rather loose morals that my roommates at the dorm had. While I wasn’t sure about what right and wrong was I figured I wanted to be as far from such “activities” as I could manage.
It was also the case that I was going through a depression that was worsening. The bleak outlook of someone who wanted to be good and faithful and had no idea how to in a world that seemed to reject everything that I thought was good. But that is not the purpose of this post. That I may leave for later. What is important is that something very unusual happened to me that night.
At the time I was depressed about a girl, which happened far more often than I care to admit. Nevertheless that was what I was wracking my brain over. I believe this had more to do with my profound loneliness I was experiencing at the time.
In any event I could not figure out why I felt the way I did or why God would allow me to suffer so. I kept thinking and thinking trying to work it out. Finally, exhausted mental and physically (depression takes a remarkable toll on one’s energy level) something happened that rarely occurs. My mind was blank and silent. Worn out by continuous use and needless anxiety, the voice that is my thinking voice fell silent.
The reason why I mention the “thought voice” is for a reason. When I’m thinking my brain, in verbalizing my thoughts, has a tone, much like a person’s voice. It has a particular “sound”. It often resembles the way PEOPLE ALWAYS TYPE IN CAPS. Not always shouting but constantly loud.
So after a minute of rare silence in my head my brain started up again. Only something was slightly different. My brain was asking leading questions. It was leading itself on an entirely different train of thought by slightly altering my perspective on my situation. As it progressed, I came to find that by answering the questions my situation actually had an explanation of sorts.
It wasn’t until I had progressed most of the way down this thought path when I realized something. The thought voice that was asking questions was softer, less booming than my actual thought voice. It was patient, encouraging, and asked only that I consider the same data from a slightly different perspective. Not only did it seem to act on its own but as I answered questions my mind seemed to calm down, and my anxiety for the first time in a long time seemed to drift away.
It finally occurred to me that this voice that was asking the questions was not me. These were not my thoughts. These are not questions I would ask. I had not even considered this route before. Someone else was asking these questions. Finally I asked the voice, “Who are you?”
The voice replied, “You know who I am.” And with that the other voice disappeared from my mind.
