I have a voice in my head. It doesn't narrate my life. That would be fine. Might even be funny.
This voice interprets events, sometimes into the distant future. The interpretation is rarely a positive prognostication. It's favorite form of commentary is why the thing that just happened isn't the good thing it appears to be.
"Well, she said yes, but that was because she doesn't understand what's involved. She'll never make it work. It will all end in utter disaster, and it will be your fault, too, because you got her into it. Hope you'll enjoy living with that responsibility. You've been warned, so don't come crying to me when it happens."
My gut thinks the little voice is right, and my gut controls my throat, my heart and my intestines. My gut can constrict every part of my bodily functions, but it cannot make the little voice stop talking.
In fact, I have found no way to shut that voice up. I've tried talking over it, singing over it, repeating scripture over it. Praying over it. The moment I stop, the voice picks up with a "that's so cute. You think Someone's listening, don't you? You think all your little ideas about God and Jesus and the universe are true. What a miserable creature you are. You can't be a pagan but you can't trust God, either. If He's out there, He's laughing his invisible ass off about you. He's probably not, though. You're all alone and that's your fault, too. You just don't have enough faith to make God pay attention to you."
I know icepick lobotomies are not the answer. I suspect it would simply add to the problem, likely with excessive drool. There are days when the thought of a sharp object through the eye socket is quite appealing. It wouldn't stop the voice. I know that. The voice tells me that while it's laughing at me.
I hate the voice. I want it denounce it as a liar. The problem with a lie is how little it has to be to spoil the truth. The truth should be more powerful but the lie lends doubt. Doubt is all the voice needs to shut me down.
I wish I had something positive to say. I wish I believed like I used to. The fact is I'm currently going through the motions trying to find my lost first love, assuming I ever loved in the first place. I don't know what else to do, really. Until God speaks, I'm just drowning down here with only that hateful little voice to keep me company.
Keep the faith.