Silence has never been unfamiliar to me. I’ve always been someone who sits in quiet spaces with comfortability. Personally, I don’t like if there’s constant noise or distraction because it feels too overwhelming. So, silence is where I stay. It’s where I feel the most like myself.
Silence as comfort and early solitude
For the most part, I grew up alone. I’m an only child, so I learned early on to entertain myself—playing solo games, writing stories, reading fun mystery novels.
I remember going to the toy store with my mom and being brought little projects for me to do. I remember getting science kits, fun fill-out books like “about me” or Mad Libs, and board games like Operation that you could play alone.
Of course, there were moments I felt lonely. But I grew comfortable and used to being solo that it didn’t affect me the way it may have others.
I think it’s because I choose silence over noise because of my anxieties and fears. I noticed that I didn’t need constant background sound or distraction. It was easy to sit in silence in peace. I was okay with it.
To me, silence has always been my form of rest.
I just always craved time alone. Time to be by myself because I could just be freely authentic without any outside unwanted judgment. When I’m doing things that I genuinely love to do—my hobbies, my interests—I rarely ever feel alone.Silence, identity, and relationships
I’ve been fortunate enough to always have friends by my side. They became my social lifeline and a place of feeling acceptance. They saw something in me that I couldn’t see in myself at the time.
I’ve always been hard on myself, so the fact that I actually had friends often boggled my mind.
I’ve always considered myself to be too quiet, too shy to make friends. But people naturally gravitated towards my quiet nature. They saw me as reliable, kind, and perhaps even fun.
I’m so grateful to have had a social life from an early age because that’s what made me feel less lonesome.
When silence becomes heavy
But sometimes, being alone in the silence too much creates an overwhelming discomfort.
My thoughts get so loud that emotions surface and my anxiety goes haywire. I’ll start overthinking everything in my life. I start doubting myself and shrink in the process.
That’s why I don’t need outside noise—I have enough of it going on in my mind.
Emotions rise when things get louder.
Lately, I’ve been feeling isolated. I haven’t really left my house much and I’ve been disassociating—being there but not fully being there.
Whenever I do leave my house, I feel so much anxiety that it’s nearly hard to breathe.
There have been moments where I’ve felt overwhelmed in ways I didn’t immediately understand until later—when everything quieted down and I was left sitting with it.
When I do go out, my emotions are high. If something or someone irritates me or triggers me in some way, my emotions come out all at once. I think it’s because I have so many buried feelings that they all come to a head at that point.
Internal processing and emotional buildup
I sit with things for a long time instead of expressing them. My thought process is quiet and internal.
I had a recent experience where I held things in too long that I couldn’t hold them in any longer. I made the decision to face the situation head on and be upfront and honest with my feelings. Needless to say, they were shut down.
This made my rejection sensitivity intensify to limits I had never reached before. I became angry, frustrated, and quite frankly hurt.
That’s why I feel more comfort in silence because I’ve learned vulnerability can often be detrimental.
But over time, I realized that I shouldn’t live my life in fear of opening up and that I should let things out before the tension builds.Reflection on silence
I’m starting to understand that silence hits differently for me. It holds comfort and clarity but can also hold heaviness and disconnection.
But if you were to ask me if I prefer silence or noise, I’m always going to choose silence.
I’m an introvert and I love to be alone. It’s my space for recharging my social battery, engaging in things I love, and sorting through my thoughts on my own time, no pressure.
And through the heaviness that comes along with it, I can manage it more easily when I’m in my own space quietly.
What does silence feel like for you—comfort, heaviness, or a mix of both?
“Silence is a source of great strength.”— Lao Tzu
#MentalHealth #Anxiety #ADHD #ADHDInGirls #Autism #AutismSpectrumDisorder #AutismSpectrum #Depression #Neurodiversity #MightyTogether
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