“I wonder how long it would take for someone to notice if I stopped talking,” Kristen Stewart once said as Melinda Sordino in a little known indie flick called Speak, based on the novel by Laurie Anderson.

Melinda, having suffered a particularly traumatizing summer, decides that life (or at least high school) is easier to live through as a mute. So she stops speaking. Hence the title.

For Melinda, silence is a defense mechanism. It’s sometimes easier to cope when you bottle things up, and so the more disturbed you are, the tighter you twist the lid. For her, it was never a choice.

But for me, not-speaking is something I like to do.

One of the interesting aspects of my personality (and one of the most irritating, if you’ve ever had the misfortune to be in a relationship with me) is that I’m prone to a bit of bipolar-ish behaviour. (Before I fuel the psychologists in all of us, let me emphasize that I’m not bipolar. Hence the ‘ish’. Got it?)

There’s a switch somewhere in my brain that allows me to jump between excited and socially adept personality, and silent and broody mode. Sometimes, however, I end up leaving the switch to the latter setting for a fair bit of time.

So I guess in the last two weeks, once you subtract meetings with the boss and class teaching, I’ve spoken about 14 times in total.

I grunt once when I get into the office. Then if anyone’s left by the time I leave (doubtful), I grunt a second time. That’s two grunts a day. Fourteen in two weeks.

Some weekends, I don’t grunt at all.

Unfortunately, if you don’t know me well — or perhaps equally likely, if you can’t accept it, you might think that I’m going through a rough time, or that I’m angry, depressed, sad, or whatever.

But I’m not. Really!

You know those movies where there’s a narration and you’re hearing all the little thoughts of the main character, and then you realise that even though the person may be alone, they’re not really alone-alone because they have their thoughts?

That’s like what it’s in my head. All the friggin’ time.

One of the nice things about being a mathematician is that my mind is prone to these extended periods of brainstorming. And so whether I’m waiting for the oven to heat up, or doing my laundry, or working at the gym, there’s never a time when my brain isn’t ticking away at something.

It’s not always maths. Sometimes, I’m thinking about my schedule for next week, or what forms I’ll have to fill out, or what I’ll be teaching tomorrow, or what I’ll be doing at the gym that night. But there’s always something ‘on’. It’s like a television that’s never off; my brain is left babbling on and on and on.

Silence is uncomfortable. It’s boring, lonely, and depressing. Nobody likes silence.

But when you have your thoughts, it’s never really silent. Right? …Right?

Or am I just on my way down to crazy town?