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How I Became Gentle With Myself When My Brain Was Too Loud

 

A nightclub would be much better because then, I get drunk. But No! That is just my brain at midnight when I need to be up the next day for work. I see doctors, perhaps not for this particular issue, but it came up. They may have called Fantasy Prone Personality or was it auditory hallucinations? I couldn't tell you if I tried, I was too happy having a name attached to this bane of my existence.

You'd think I'd be used to it by now right? Seeing that I have lived with it since I was young but No! Maybe it is the nature of these thoughts and conversations. Dark; Oh so dark! And every time it does, the first thing I want to do is yell at myself.

“Why can’t you just think normal thoughts?

Why are you like this?”

BOOM! You're in the trap.

Your brain is a storm. A soft storm, sure, but a storm nonetheless.

Yelling at it doesn’t calm it down—it just makes the rain louder.

 

What It Feels Like

Some nights, it’s whispers.

Tiny worries crawling under your skin like ants.

Other nights, it’s a hurricane.

Ideas, regrets, fears, and plans you’ll never follow all spinning at a speed that makes your chest ache.

It’s exhausting.

And lonely.

Even if you’re surrounded by people, you’re still there, inside your head, trying to survive the noise.

 

Why Gentle Care Matters

Here’s the thing, honey: punishing yourself never works.

Your brain isn’t bad—it’s caffeinated, hyperaware, perfectly capable of chaos.

Treat it like a toddler on espresso. Don’t fight it. Don’t shame it.

Hold it. Hum to it. Let it be messy while you hand it a soft cup of tea.

 

Tiny Practices That Actually Help

I’m not giving you some bougie self-help checklist.

These are my messy, soft little hacks that somehow work:

Whisper to yourself: Like you’re talking to a friend who just can’t stop overthinking. “Hey… it’s okay, we’ll survive this.”

Write it down: Even if it’s scribbles, even if it’s ugly. Let the chaos spill.

Move your body: Dance in the kitchen. Walk barefoot on the floor. Shake out the tension.

Create soft anchors: A candle, a song, a scent—anything that says, “You’re safe, even when your brain isn’t.”

 

A Tiny Story

Yesterday, my brain screamed at me for two hours straight.

I wanted to scream back, but instead… I made cocoa, grabbed my notebook, and wrote nonsense.

Some of it made sense. Some of it didn’t.

But the storm quieted. Not gone. Just… gentled.

And for a minute, I felt like I was holding myself like someone else might—like someone who actually gives a damn.

 

Tonight, when your thoughts are loud and relentless… try this:

Don’t fight. Don’t judge.

Be a soft storm.

Hold yourself.

Exhale.

And know, babe, it’s okay to be exactly this.

 

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