The Curse Of Overthinking: A Life Analyzed 2
I’m inclined to embark on part two of the journey through overthinking. Being an overthinker is akin to having an uncontrollable feature of our wiring, an aspect of our personalities that defies an off-switch. It’s the constant, ceaseless evaluation of every step we take, every interaction, an intricate dance of thoughts that precede our actions, like mapping the entire journey before reaching the destination.
Imagine observing a group entering a restaurant. You naturally dissect each person, seeking that unique trait that will stand out. As you immerse yourself in this process, you momentarily detach from your surroundings. Your attention shifts to predicting their seating choices, calculating the distance from your own, perpetuating the overthinking spiral until there’s no more data to gather.
Let’s shift our scenario, but we remain in the restaurant. This time, you’re the one entering, pulling open the door, and recognizing its hinges. You step back to avoid a collision and begin your assessment. It’s almost instinctual; you observe the patrons, categorizing waitresses by age, subtly checking for marriage rings, intuiting motherhood. It’s a relentless mental choreography with no apparent switch for cessation.
People have asked me, “How do you live like this? Isn’t it exhausting?” The answer is an unequivocal yes. Some days, mental fatigue sets in as I dissect every aspect of my day. In an office environment, surrounded by familiar faces, any minute shift in mood or body language becomes a captivating spectacle. I can’t help but unravel the subtleties.
Consider it akin to identifying a lie in a conversation. While I can’t discern lies all the time, with close acquaintances, deviations from our usual exchanges signal deception. Once I detect it, the mental gymnastics begin, an endless loop of analysis that can lead to near mental exhaustion, akin to a relentless nosebleed.
Overthinking isn’t inherently wrong, but it can strain relationships with friends and family. The discomfort of knowing someone is dissecting your every move can be unnerving. My therapist is the exception; I’ve learned to respect her role in helping me manage this trait.
In 2001, I was driving a semi-truck when an incident changed my life’s course. I replayed that day in my mind, but my incessant analysis offered no revision or escape. It was as if I had glimpsed the inevitable end and had to reconcile with it.
I don’t want to be this way all the time. I often feel isolated, observing from the shadows, socializing only when my mind switches off. It’s baffling how I can flip that switch when necessary, initiating conversations effortlessly.
When I attend church, I deliberately arrive early, ensuring no one sits behind me. The unease of someone lurking in the shadows also plagues me in movie theaters, hindering my enjoyment. It’s another facet of my overthinking, a facet I can’t disable.
My advice for encountering an overthinker? Look for the quiet, observant ones, the ones who listen without reacting, even to humor. If you find one, beware, for they’ve honed their detective skills, and once they catch a scent of deception, there’s no turning back.
In everyday life, overthinkers can be invaluable. Their meticulous thought processes make them adept at various roles, including counseling. They excel in problem-solving, playing out scenarios in their minds until they find clarity. Don’t hesitate to hire an overthinker; they’re driven to improve efficiency and productivity, making them assets to any team. Welcome to the world of the overthinker.
