How I Lost My Voice and Became Trapped Within Myself

My body was screaming at me, but I didn’t listen

Ali Hall
The Memoirist
Published in
4 min readJan 2


Photo by Ryan Moreno on Unsplash

There were no words to say. It’s not like my mind was in turmoil, lost in the trees trying to navigate the right sentences to express. I had no words, and I felt nothing.

No peace, no stress. Just plain apathy. Apathy is a dangerous state to be in.

He tried talking to me, and I replied with one-word answers. I wasn’t being rude or evasive. I just didn’t have anything to say. Speaking suddenly had a heaviness about it. It was easier to remain silent.

We were on holiday.

A trip with our campervan and dogs up in the north of Scotland. Exquisite scenery with breathtaking vistas. Mountains and forests, oceans and beaches. A poetic landscape full of mysticism and wonderment.

We walked through pine forests; I said nothing. We paddled our kayak over the flirting waves of the open ocean, and still no words. We ate at a local cafe in silence.

I fell deeper inside myself like a feather in the wind making its way to the ground. I felt my words trapped in my soul with no means of escape. I wanted out. Specific words wanted out. But I couldn’t muster the strength to express my needs. And all other words were meaningless.

My voice box was lost in inertia.

This numbness trapped me. Like a startled rabbit, I went through the motions of living.

If you are standing next to someone you long to escape from, you struggle to see the surrounding beauty. Your eyes scan the ground; they don’t rise up to the horizon. In this state, you don’t always realize that their shadow obscures your sun.

My muteness was selective.

I could chat with shopkeepers and bar staff. I could share an authentic laugh with a nearby camper. But between us, I recoiled back into my own silent movie.

Had I run out of things to say to him? Was that it?

I wasn’t angry or upset. If anything, my silence was reassuring; it was a sign of realization and acceptance. My silence was my body screaming at me to get out. My silence was a visceral expression of inner knowing. My body was on…



Ali Hall
The Memoirist

Kindness = my superpower. ✍Psychology, friendship, social justice, feminism & personal growth. Destigmatising the childfree. Lover of trail running & dogs.