An open Letter...

/Shutterstock
A Fill-In-The-Blanks Letter to Your Family
Lead or Follow? An Introvert Weighs the Challenges
The Overextended Introvert: Handle With Care
1 Healing From a Toxic Childhood? The Two Words You Need Most
2 How the 3 Types of Narcissists Act on a First Date
3 How to Know If You're a Victim of Gaslighting
4 When Should You Trust Your Gut? Here's What the Science Says
5 The Psychology of Child Torture Most Popular
5 Steps for Dealing With People Who Talk Too Much
Survey Says: How to Meet New People
More Talk About Talking Too Much
Social Drinking: How Do You Handle a New Friend Who Drinks Too Much?
How Much Does Your Body Language Really Reveal? You Might Also Like Dear person who has been talking for six-and-a-half minutes without taking a breath ,
I am writing on behalf of everyone who has ever sat across from you and wondered if there was any end to the stream of words pouring from your mouth. And I am putting it in writing because I can’t seem to force a word in edgewise in this...well, I hesitate to call it a "conversation."
I know that telling people they talk too much is considered rude — although is it really any ruder than drowning your listener in words?
ARTICLE CONTINUES AFTER ADVERTISEMENT
In situations like this, I remind myself that talking too much is often an anxiety thing, that you’re just spewing all this information at me because you’re nervous and letting words out is a pressure release. With this in mind, I try to keep my head in sympathetic mode, and to somehow exude calming vibes that might allow you to relax, so this onslaught will taper off.
It's not working.
And so I sit here, nodding, eyes glazed, trying to quell the panic building in my gut. And I wonder how it is you don’t notice my unfocused gaze, the muscle working in my jaw, the many times my mouth has opened hopefully — grasping at any perceived opportunity to squeeze out a thought — and then shut again, as your run-on sentences run on and on and on in a marathon monologue.
Please, I beg you with the salt of a thousand tears: Stop talking.
Honestly, I don’t think I produce as many words in a week as you have produced in the
[surreptitiously checks time] 12 minutes we’ve been sitting here. Do your stories really require this level of detail? Do you really expect me to follow you down every rabbit hole of your thoughts? Do you really imagine I am enraptured by tales of your cousin’s wife’s first
divorce?
What are you accomplishing here? If we are all, as humans, motivated by rewards, what is the reward for you in monopolizing conversations? Really, I’m asking. Because I don’t understand.