The voices in my head really need to learn how to get along. 

My voices are usually fear, reason and intuition, and they are perfectly normal. To a large degree, I can tell the difference between those three. While the voice of fear worries about what could happen (worst-case scenario), the voice of reason analyzes the pros and cons. The voice of intuition, which only wants the best for me, slips into echoes of "I told you so" when I do not listen. 

In psychology, these different voices are called aspects or subpersonalities. Sigmund Freud identified three and called them the id, the ego and the superego. 

On Aug. 7, when a driver evaded arrest by driving through a cornfield in Viola, I went to see if I could get a picture of the vehicle. It was my first cornfield-involved run from the law so I did not know what to expect. The vehicle was surrounded on all sides but one by cornstalks. My normal instinct at scenes is to walk around the vehicle and take pictures from all angles.

“The picture you want is in there.”

Directing me into the cornstalks surrounding the vehicle.

“Nope, you can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I don’t want to do it.”

“OK, drive back to work without a good picture then.” 

I made my way into the cornstalks and slowly around the vehicle – snapping pictures as I went. The picture that made the next edition was made while I’m surrounded by cornstalks, holding back some of those with my left hand and taking pictures with my right. 

If you have ever been attempted to make your way through cornstalks, I wouldn’t recommend it. Those things are planted amazingly close together.

On Aug. 19, when a driver ran off the road and left the car abandoned in the woods by a creek, I went to the scene. All you could see from the bridge was a little bit of vehicle. Emergency personnel were climbing over the railing and making their way through the woods. The voices were in a mood that day:

“Ticks, chiggers and God only know what else is in there.” 

“You know you’re going.”

“I wish I had some bug spray.”

“Well, you do not, so stop stalling and just go.”

The picture you saw in the paper was after I slowly made my way through trees and vegetation overgrowth and climbed down into a dry creek bed. Then, I had to make my way back out. The itchy sensation on my arms and legs was likely psychological. 

When I write columns about my personal experiences, I see it as a way for readers to get to know me. When I write columns about my work-related experiences, it’s a way to provide a behind-the-scenes look at being a newspaper reporter. This one was both.

Standard reporter Lisa Hobbs can be reached at 473-2191.