I have a coworker who I discovered a few weeks ago had no idea internal monologues were a thing. I had to explain that it’s a real documented phenomena and that it’s actually a minority of people that don’t have one. She’s pretty damn smart, too. I also play D&D with a guy who has aphantasia. He’s also pretty damn smart and you would have no idea he was incapable of visualizing things if he didn’t tell you. Him casually mentioning it in conversation surprised people who had known him for years. So, yeah, absolutely no correlation between intelligence and how your thoughts may or may not produce phantom sensory input.
Years ago I had really severe anxiety and intrusive thoughts. I noticed though as my anxiety got better through among other things therapy that the intrusive thoughts took on a new form; Unbidden and often times inappropriate shitposting IRL.
Personally, most of the time I don’t really hear my internal monologue. It’s there but it kinda tends to get drowned out by a constant swirl of other random thoughts unless I externalize it and talk to myself, but I do hear the intrusive thoughts loud and clear. Add those things together and I like to joke that I accidentally manifested a shitpost tulpa.
Then because I found this thought amusing I came up with an entire character to put to it.
The idea of not having a internal monologue is kinda strange to me. I have a constant internal monologue. Like there doesn’t go a moment by without me talking to myself in my head.
I had it a couple of times that my internal monologue was off, usually due to medications or after intense experiences where I just need some space to process. It’s the most strange feeling.
The idea of not having a internal monologue is kinda strange to me. I have a constant internal monologue. Like there doesn’t go a moment by without me talking to myself in my head.
You should try taking Finnegans Wake, especially before going to bed, and see what happens. It rewires your internal monologue syntax in some really strange way that is not far from the experience of sleep.
I have a coworker who I discovered a few weeks ago had no idea internal monologues were a thing. I had to explain that it’s a real documented phenomena and that it’s actually a minority of people that don’t have one. She’s pretty damn smart, too. I also play D&D with a guy who has aphantasia. He’s also pretty damn smart and you would have no idea he was incapable of visualizing things if he didn’t tell you. Him casually mentioning it in conversation surprised people who had known him for years. So, yeah, absolutely no correlation between intelligence and how your thoughts may or may not produce phantom sensory input.
My internal monologue is written. I see letters (they seem typed, but no recognizable font), but I don’t know what it was before I could read.
The only thing I really hear in my head is intrusive- either ear worms or standard intrusive thoughts, otherwise it’s text.
Years ago I had really severe anxiety and intrusive thoughts. I noticed though as my anxiety got better through among other things therapy that the intrusive thoughts took on a new form; Unbidden and often times inappropriate shitposting IRL.
Personally, most of the time I don’t really hear my internal monologue. It’s there but it kinda tends to get drowned out by a constant swirl of other random thoughts unless I externalize it and talk to myself, but I do hear the intrusive thoughts loud and clear. Add those things together and I like to joke that I accidentally manifested a shitpost tulpa.
Then because I found this thought amusing I came up with an entire character to put to it.
The idea of not having a internal monologue is kinda strange to me. I have a constant internal monologue. Like there doesn’t go a moment by without me talking to myself in my head.
I had it a couple of times that my internal monologue was off, usually due to medications or after intense experiences where I just need some space to process. It’s the most strange feeling.
You should try taking Finnegans Wake, especially before going to bed, and see what happens. It rewires your internal monologue syntax in some really strange way that is not far from the experience of sleep.