The voice in her head would tell her to take things slow.
To enjoy the day without the deadlines that she was used to. Stop at the corner of the road where the breeze hit her the most – and her hair flew in zigzag patterns across her face. It told her to eat a cupcake. Or two of them. Because they are meant to be buttery and delicious and can be enjoyed only one bite at a time.
The voice in her head would tell her to breathe more.
And with each breath think of the things she would like to do today. Chalk out a plan, a list, a countdown if you may. Put random things on it. Cross out things. Repeat the ones she liked, because no one will come back to check if all those were ticked out.
The voice in her head would ask her to smile constantly.
It had asked her to practice that smile since she was 10. Asked her to stick to the goofiest one she could manage. Because when she is low and cannot talk herself out of it, her goofy smile will remind her of things she wouldn’t mind smiling about for real.
The voice in her head would ask her to meet people.
Even if she didn’t talk to them. She could just listen. Could nod at appropriate intervals. Could tilt her head to one side as she imagined the speaker’s life.
The voice in her head told her to imagine.
Imagine all that she could – about people, about places, about things. Imagine while being in a group or alone in her room. Never let go of her imagination. Imagine so much that reality would alter because her imagination was more vivid and more strong.
The voice in her head asked her to dream.
And dream big. And small. And everything in-between. Because even if they kept changing, those dreams would push her everyday to smile and to wake up with the most wonderful thoughts and ideas. Like a child on Christmas day. She would smile and her eyes would sparkle and she would skip around the house, trying not to step on the dreams she had left unprotected from yesterday.
The voice in her head.
The voice in her head never stopped for a breath.