There is one very regretful reality that over-thinking and the Ebola virus have in common: there is no cure, but some experimental treatment is being tested…
Since I’m not in an interview, I can be honest about two of my greatest weaknesses: I tend to feel sorry for myself and I can think a thing to death with the same speedy efficiency as a crocodile pulling a gazelle into water.
Self-pity and over-thinking also happen to be the features I detest most in others. Everything about it just feels like a ball of wet sand in my swim suit after a tumble in the ocean. Especially over-thinking.
I have lost my fair share of friendships because from a little bit of incomplete information I build wars and calamities and rejections in my head. I was in a school for girls, so when I have designed my fantasies of wars and calamities and rejection, I proceed with the kind of astute psychological combat against the target person that you only get from years and years of refinement from living among clever women.
Then, when I have lost the target person, regret and shame inevitably set in.
I have made mistakes in my career too. Working in law and teaching at university level are not exactly professions conducive to quiet minds and insensitive observations. No no, every little thing can matter. You just have to find where it matters.
But no mistake in my career or friendships can match the destruction with which I burden my own mind.
The singer P!nk issued a challenge recently. She said: “Go one day without criticizing anyone.” How hard could that be? Well, as it turns out – for me – it’s like knitting a jersey with sunshine.
It’s not that I go around criticizing people. But in my head I criticize, judge and scold every chance I get. And what disturbed me most was that the chief receiver of my wrath and judgment was me.
I wish I could tell you that somewhere deep inside me I was glad that I was so hard on myself and not others. But truth is, I was disappointed. I’ve only ever had me and me was always all the backup I ever needed.
So naturally I fell down a rabbit hole of stressing about my own inner dialogues and reading too many articles online about inner voice and with the passing of just a little bit of time I became obsessed and I could no longer think about anything else and this led me to research over-thinking and trying some of the proposed ways to overcome over-thinking and naturally nothing workedandIalmostwentinsane…
The truth is, suggestions on how to stop over-thinking just make me think more. And that makes me more despondent, which leads to more over-thinking. If my constant over-thinking was connected to extreme intelligence, I would – of course – not be bitching in your ears. But I’m not supremely intelligence. Just a little concerned about the damage I’m doing to myself.
In the interests of transparency, I’ve considered man-made solutions like alcohol. But my frail constitution takes my hope and ambition to numb my mind with booze and mocks it by making me humiliatingly sick when I over-indulge.
No. My drug is hyper-stupid-thinking.
I’m off to make some chococino and think some more…