Quiet is my conscience

I hate the quiet.  Genuinely. I am rarely comfortable with it. I am perfectly happy if there is music in the background, a tv creating noise, a fan while I sleep, a dishwasher while I type.

I am very uncomfortable with absolute silence. The truth is the only time I ever choose quiet is when I drive  and no one else is in the car. Then it feels like peace. Maybe bc I am not forced to think of the dishes in the sink or the fact that my bed needs made... (and for the person who thinks it's a criminal act not to make his bed, you are wrong. ) I just drive.

I don't like quiet because I think of all the "perfect" answers to questions I have been asked, I think of all the better things I could have said, all the times I should have swallowed my pride, should have let go of my fear and told the other person how I REALLY felt... quiet is like my own personal purgatory where I relive all the pieces of my life where I should have... could have.... done or said something different. 

I guess the truth really is much more simple than I am making it out to be. For me, quiet is the accumulation of all the wrong choices, perceived wrong choices, and bad ideas I had. I'd like to tell you that once and a while I decide that I occasionally decide I did the right thing, but that would be far fewer and far between and thus it would be a lie.

Quiet is my conscience. I overthink, overanalyze, worry, compare, and contemplate. If I could just turn off m brain I might be safe however; until then I will turn on music, flip my fan off and on...anything to make a sound.