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The Curse Of Overthinking: A Life Analyzed 2

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Overthinking can cause Anxiety, depression

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.

The Curse of Overthinking: A Life Analyzed

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In the quiet of the night, as the world settled into darkness, I found myself wanting to discuss a phenomenon that had plagued my existence for as long as I could remember – overthinking. It’s a peculiar state of mind, one that renders me unable to simply listen to someone without dissecting every aspect of their communication.

There are moments when people engage with me, and it’s as though I’m not just hearing their words, but I’m observing the nuances of their body language, the rhythm of their blinking eyes, and the cadence of their speech. It’s a continuous process that plays out in my mind, a simultaneous dance between understanding their words and contemplating a myriad of other thoughts.

Overthinking is my constant companion, an unwelcome guest that resides in my mind regardless of the time or place. It haunts me from the moment I wake up in the morning to my daily routine at work, and even now, as I pour my thoughts onto these pages. I’ve come to accept that it’s an integral part of who I am, something I cannot simply shut off. Yet, I don’t consider myself crazy; in fact, I believe that overthinking has its merits, though it can sometimes become a double-edged sword.

For instance, if I were to describe the simple act of walking to the door, I could break down every thought that crosses my mind. I would anticipate every step – from rising from my seat, to reaching for the doorknob, pulling the door open, stepping into the hallway, and closing the door gently behind me. It’s a meticulous mental process, one that allows me to predict my actions with precision. Overthinking, at times, provides me with a sense of control that others may not comprehend.

However, it’s not always so straightforward. Overthinking can be overwhelming, like a torrent of thoughts cascading at a dizzying pace. It’s akin to trying to focus on a single thread in a tapestry of ideas, all vying for my attention. It’s a ceaseless whirlwind of contemplation that I cannot escape.

Recently, during a conversation with a long-time friend, I broached the subject of my incessant overthinking and its pervasive impact on my daily life. She asked me how it felt to analyze people so intensely, to scrutinize them from head to toe, and to delve deep into their thoughts while conversing. Her question struck a chord with me, and I realized that I had never truly articulated the experience.

I explained to her that it feels like a unique ability to decipher the hidden facets of human interaction. It’s as if I possess an innate radar for detecting lies, hidden motives, and unspoken emotions. I can often sense the sincerity or insincerity in a person’s words, even when their expressions remain unchanged. It’s a strange and eerie feeling to perceive what lies beneath the surface of their words, to anticipate the direction of a conversation before it unfolds.

As I engage with people, my focus can become so intense that I lose myself in the intricate web of their thoughts and intentions. I recall an incident during a conference where a gentleman across the table said something unexpected. Without realizing it, I had fixated on him, dissecting his every word and gesture. It took the forceful intervention of a friend, who slammed his hand on the table, to snap me out of my trance. The room erupted in laughter, but I knew that my overthinking had once again taken control.

At times, I view this constant state of overthinking as a curse. It’s an intrinsic part of my being, a facet of my identity that I cannot escape. I don’t believe there is a cure for overthinking, only strategies to manage it. I’ve accepted that it’s how I’m wired, and it’s a characteristic that will accompany me throughout my life.

Yet, there are challenges that come with overthinking. People who don’t experience it firsthand often misunderstand the intensity of the constant mental chatter. They may gossip behind your back, oblivious to the fact that you can sense their thoughts and intentions. Overthinking can be isolating, as few can truly comprehend the complex labyrinth of thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

The most challenging aspect of living with overthinking is the desire to simply switch it off. I yearn for moments of respite when I can experience life without the relentless stream of thoughts. It’s a daily struggle, not knowing what each day will bring and how my overthinking will color my experiences. The uncertainty can be overwhelming, making it difficult to navigate the world like others do effortlessly.

When someone expresses a desire to “get inside someone’s head,” I can’t help but smile wryly. I know all too well that delving into the depths of another person’s mind is a labyrinthine journey. It’s a place where you can decipher the unspoken truths, but it’s also a realm of chaos, where thoughts collide and compete for attention.

Skeptics may dismiss my claims as fabricated, but I can attest to the validity of my experiences. If you observe people closely enough, you can discern the flaws, the inconsistencies, and the falsehoods in their behavior. It’s a skill that has been honed by a lifetime of overthinking, and while it can be unsettling, it has its moments of clarity and understanding.

In the end, overthinking is both a blessing and a burden, a unique lens through which I view the world. It’s a perpetual dance between insight and turmoil, a journey that I have come to accept as an integral part of who I am. While it may be difficult for others to grasp the intricacies of overthinking, it remains a defining aspect of my existence – a constant companion on this ever-unfolding journey called life.

My Relationship with God

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Robert Woonacott, will discuss his relationship with God

Today I kind of want to talk about my faith in God and what it means to me. I think I honestly every single day that I think about my faith for so many years I have prayed to God for a lot of things to happen in my life and some prayers have been answered while other have not. So what does that mean to a lot of people when they feel that God isn’t there maybe God doesn’t exist those are some of the questions that a lot of people including myself might ask.
When I look up into the sky and just recently I see all these galaxies all these areas that are so beautiful and so many places that we can go and who’s to say that these galaxies out there is part of what God has created to be heaven to live in a world that it’s free from pain suffering and happiness all the way around.
When I was in my coma I can remember many times me praying to God almost every day so it seemed I was scared I felt all alone and yet I felt God’s presence and me as I’ve never had before then again what does that mean is God in my heart it’s in me is it surrounded by me is he here I just don’t know I want to feel that he’s here with me I want to be like every other Christian but it’s so hard for me to feel the spirit of God like they have walking around carefree without anything it seems to bring them down.
I remember a story not long ago where this woman had gone to the store at Christmas time to pick up some groceries that she had forgotten, when she left her family little did she know that that was the last time she’d ever see her family alive because while she was at the store a major fire broke out in her house telling her husband and her three children and just to think how devastating that would be, and yet when I heard her speak at Church of this story I sat there and I asked myself how could she be so humble, how could she still have so much love for Jesus, I would just sit there in disbelief.
I don’t claim to have all the answers, I’m not the best parent in the world, I’m not the type of person that can be so mean to people and not care about their feelings, and I don’t want to see anybody hurt, I don’t want to know if someone is in pain because for some reason I feel that pain in that person and I just don’t even know how to react to it because human life is so precious and people’s feelings are even more precious, and sometimes I feel myself being over critical of others and I don’t know why I do this.
How devoted am I to God? I am not sure sometimes but I do know this when my mother passed away the night that she passed away I sat beside the bed all alone with my mother holding her hand and I said to myself she finally got her to wish she went to sleep and she died in her sleep which I’ve mentioned before and my other blogs. Was I sad at the time when she passed, of course, I was but for some reason, I was so happy for her that she was going to be in a place where I knew she would be OK, my mother wasn’t going to suffer anymore, she was going to get to be with her mother her father her sister and her brother, so how could I be so selfish and weep over my mother because she went to a much better place I was very happy for her and that’s why I couldn’t cry.
Today I sit here on Thanksgiving and I am so thankful for everything in my life I’m thankful for my children and my grandchildren I’m thankful for the people whom I work for the friends that I have and my family. I have so much to be thankful for and yet sometimes I wonder if God is here in my prayers but yet I know he is, I just don’t know what life has in store for me, at any time your life could be taken away from you and so do you want to take the chance of not knowing God, that’s something that I don’t wish on anybody create your relationship with God don’t let anybody come between them because it’s your relationship and nobody else’s.
Right now I see the world and it seems like it’s falling apart things that I’ve read out of the Bible are starting to take place, I have talked to other Christians from many different places in the world and it seems to me that everybody has their own opinions about the end of times about the second coming of Christ. When you read in revelations about the end of times what’s going to happen and you line everything up it just seems like to me it’s that time that it’s going to be the end of the world and we’re going to all be able to go to heaven at one time just not one at a time.
How there’s a person who reads the Bible all of the time have their interpretation of things to come, isn’t it written in the Bible that we’re supposed to follow everything and yet it’s God’s word, we all can interpret the Bible in so many different ways but again I ask you what is the true meaning of God’s word if everybody interprets the Bible differently and that is something that puzzles me, but I know that God wants us to follow him and yet gives us the free will to interpret that Bible the way we see it. I just don’t know I get so confused at times but I do know that I’m a follower of God, there’s going to come a day when I will stop the four Jesus and I will be judged and he will put his arms around me and here we’ll say welcome go be with your family.

Let’s Get It Started

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Faith in God and my family

This story I want it to go along with the video blog that I just recorded because kind of gives people a little bit more to read into and it’s kind of like an introductory description of what I’m going to talk about end the video.

So the whole story is about my faith and my faith in God and how I came to find our Lord at an early age, I honestly have a very great family and although we might disagree a lot we were raised by 4 great parents, grandparents, sisters and brothers and so much more and if you look and our entire family we honestly we’re all raised to be just like everybody else and that is to exist as a family.

A Journey Beyond Reality: My COVID Coma Experience

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It was a night like any other, one of those moments when you want to talk about anything and everything that comes to mind. But tonight, what occupied my thoughts was an experience that had left an indelible mark on my life – my battle with COVID. Some may be tired of hearing my story, but it’s a tale I feel compelled to share. This is my journey through words, a glimpse into the world that unfolded when I was trapped within my own mind.

My encounter with COVID was unexpected, taking me to places I’d never been before, both physically and mentally. I had never spent so long in a hospital, never been so vulnerable. Emerging from a coma was an experience in itself, a surreal journey many don’t live to recount. What stands out most vividly is the overwhelming fear and powerlessness that consumed me during those dark days.

As my eyes fluttered open, I found myself in a world that seemed real but existed only within the confines of my own mind. I grappled with the notion that perhaps I was not of this world at that moment. People may mock or ridicule me, but what I went through was not a product of my imagination. It was real, even if only within my head. Reaching out to others seemed impossible, an exercise in futility.

My dream began with the last memory of driving home from work, transitioning abruptly into waking up in an unfamiliar place. It felt like walking in a daze, the constant questioning of how I got there and why. The experience was a perpetual sense of lostness, a feeling of existence without purpose. I was then transported to a place shrouded in mystery, my mind inundated with information I couldn’t comprehend. I was scared, utterly clueless about what was transpiring.

The world within my coma was different from reality. When I closed my eyes, I could visualize that world distinctly. I appeared different, younger, with darker hair and tanned skin. I was unburdened by pain, everything felt natural. I remember walking down a dirt road to a house with a white fence, where I met a stranger. She had striking features, blonde hair, blue eyes, and an infectious laugh. She told me about my wife’s new career in Asia and asked what I wanted to do. I expressed my desire to train police dogs, but she had a different role in mind – training military dogs for the military. It thrilled me beyond measure.

My job was like nothing I had ever seen – a facility filled with containers and helicopters. I dressed in black tactical gear, armed and ready. I met my two dogs and my instructor, a tough, no-nonsense woman. We embarked on an intense training journey that blurred the lines between reality and dreams. One moment, I was training dogs, and the next, I found myself in a helicopter, preparing for a mission in a chaotic, dystopian city.

Our mission was straightforward: find non-compliant individuals and eliminate them as part of a grand plan called the “big freeze.” This plan aimed to reduce the world’s population by cryogenically freezing half of it, then rotating the freeze process monthly. The result was a world without hunger, no currency, and the need to work for a better life.

There was no room for remorse or hesitation. I took lives, a task force member with two dogs, an AR, and a 9mm sidearm. We gave people a choice – comply or face immediate termination. Many challenged us, but compliance meant entering cryogenic freeze for five years, or perhaps indefinitely. Life was to be radically different.

Before my vacation, I visited my home, a place of comfort with a garden and a barn. It was a life of simplicity, yet contentment. The food was nutritious, and there was no scarcity. Every need was met, but my wife was absent, pursuing her career elsewhere. I called her, eager to share my newfound paradise.

My journey continued as I found myself on a houseboat in the Caribbean. The azure waters stretched endlessly, and the boat was a haven of luxury. Jet skis provided access to the nearby island, where people reveled in happiness. Everywhere, there was an abundance of fresh food, freely available for the taking. It was a paradise beyond imagination, leading me to wonder if I had glimpsed heaven or an alternate universe.

I have countless memories, bits and pieces of my extraordinary experience. Some question what it’s like to be in a coma, but it defies explanation. I saw nurses, felt fear, and once believed I held vital information they wanted to conceal. It’s an experience no one can fully understand unless they’ve lived it.

In conclusion, what happened to me was meant to be. I glimpsed the other side, a beautiful experience that nobody can take from me. Some may grow tired of hearing my story, but I won’t be silenced. It was both breathtaking and terrifying, an odyssey that forever changed me. It’s a story of a journey beyond reality, one I will continue to share, regardless of who listens.

Family Dynamics and Unity

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Family should get along not fight and should be there all the time.

In today’s discussion, I want to delve into the complex dynamics of human relationships, particularly the experience of reaching out to others only to have them turn away. At the heart of this narrative lies the concept of family—a fundamental aspect of our lives that often shapes our identity and values. My own family story is a tapestry woven from the threads of divorce, resilience, hardship, and the enduring quest for connection.

I hail from a family of five, comprised of three siblings and two parents whose paths diverged when I was just eight years old. My older sister, Jan, chose to live with our father, while my younger sister, Darci, my brother, James, and I stayed with our mother. Subsequently, my father remarried, welcoming my stepmother, Janet, into our lives, and my mother found love again in my stepfather, Frank.

The memories of our family’s journey are etched in my mind. I recall the days when we left my father’s house, embarking on a series of moves that would shape our lives. First, it was Grant, Michigan, where we resided for about a year, and then we relocated to Fremont, Michigan, occupying a house for approximately a year and a half. Finally, we settled into what would become our permanent home—the place where I would attend school and eventually graduate from Fremont High School. While my sister, Jan, continued to live with our father, my brother and I remained in our mother’s care, accompanied by our stepfather, Frank.

Growing up, I never perceived our circumstances as particularly challenging. I believed that I had a good life, and, in hindsight, I realize that I did. My stepfather, a hardworking farmer, entrusted us with the care of animals and a sprawling garden during the summer months. Winter brought the responsibility of stacking wood to fuel our wood stove. As a young boy, I occasionally balked at the workload, but my stepfather’s intent was clear: to prepare us for the journey into adulthood.

My father, on the other hand, imparted a wealth of automotive knowledge during our visits. These visits started as biweekly occurrences but gradually tapered to monthly visits, possibly due to financial constraints, although the exact reasons remain unknown to me. Nonetheless, I cherished those moments spent learning from my father and bonding over cars.

In my eyes, I had the privilege of having two outstanding fathers and two remarkable mothers. My mother, a dedicated worker, commuted nearly 20 miles daily to her job as a waitress, excelling at her craft. In my younger years, I often joined her, assisting with dishwashing while admiring her skills as a waitress. I never had the chance to witness my father at work, as he toiled in a foundry. Nevertheless, life eventually led me to follow in his footsteps, working in a foundry for over 37 years.

Despite sharing a family bond, my siblings and I were never particularly close. This, I believe, significantly influenced the state of our relationships today. Presently, my brother grapples with alcoholism, having held various jobs but never entering into marriage. Darcy, my sister, married and had two children but eventually went through a divorce. Jan, my older sister, faced a tumultuous marriage characterized by abuse. She also had two children but later found happiness when she met a loving partner. Both Jan and Darci now have grandchildren whom they adore.

In contrast, my own life has seen three marriages, resulting in two children and two cherished grandsons. With such a large extended family, one might expect close-knit bonds and harmonious relationships. Regrettably, this is not our reality. Each year, Jan extends an invitation for Christmas Day festivities, a heartfelt attempt to bring the family together. However, the task of uniting everyone is a challenge, primarily due to the strained relationship between my brother and me. His aversion towards me casts a shadow over these gatherings. I feel a profound sense of sorrow, not only for myself but for our entire family. It perplexes me that a family of this magnitude struggles to maintain harmony, even when a family member faces a critical condition. In such moments, it seems as though indifference pervades, and the family collectively shrugs, accepting life’s vicissitudes.

As I’ve observed other families over the years, I’ve witnessed the beauty of kinship that endures, such as the annual Christmas parties hosted by my wife Jody’s family. Laughter, camaraderie, and shared meals characterize these gatherings, standing in stark contrast to the strained relationships within my own family. I’ve often pondered the reasons behind our family’s disunity, but answers remain elusive. Conversations about these matters are rarely broached, and each sibling holds their unique perspective on the others.

One undeniable truth is my sister Jan’s unwavering dedication to bridging the family divide. Even as she faces the challenges of divorce, I see her as an empty vessel, mourning the loss of a marriage that once brought her joy and united our family during Christmas. Her only refuge appears to be our father’s home, where my brother also resides. Times may grow tougher, and the possibility arises that our home, the place where all the children originated, may be the only sanctuary for a reunion. While it remains uncertain, it lingers as a potential turning point.

I continue to pray for my family, including my estranged brother. Despite our differences, it saddens me that during moments of need, none of my siblings seem willing to engage in conversation. This unwillingness to communicate and empathize with each other mirrors a larger issue plaguing the world—a lack of dialogue and understanding. It feels as though the prophecies of the Bible are unfolding before my eyes, and I can’t help but perceive the world around me as increasingly chaotic, vastly different from the serene upbringing I enjoyed. Even the magic of Christmas, a cherished memory from my childhood, seems to have faded, replaced by the stark reality of a fractured family.

In conclusion, I implore all of us to reflect on the potential for a more harmonious world if we could simply strive to get along. Our family, once a source of strength and unity, now stands as a testament to the importance of fostering and nurturing our relationships. If we can bridge the gaps that divide us, perhaps we can contribute to a world that mirrors the warmth and togetherness we once cherished during the holiday season.