This post is also available as a podcast here: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/s-p01/episodes/Overthinking-e2ok6oo
My brain doesn’t stop. It is a never-ending stream of thoughts, processing and analyzing everything. I spend no less than 20 minutes on a single email. If I’m in a relationship, I spend a lot of time thinking about my words when I’m communicating. Honestly, I overcommunicate. All the things I’ve talked about contribute to this. I overcommunicate to make sure I’m understood, and because I overthink everything. I’m not “chill,” which is surprising because I’m told that I’m easy to be with. I think I’m probably quite “chill” in person, but once we’re apart I’m the opposite of “chill.” That’s the anxious attachment.
There are areas of my life that I’ve been able to let go. I have become more aware of my overthinking and implemented techniques to reduce it. I catch myself overthinking, call it out for what it is, and implement some constraints on myself to reduce it. I think the overthinking is the result of anxiety. Anxiety happens when an outcome is unknown (or out of our control), but we care about that outcome. So, overthinking is my brain’s way of saying “I care about this!” a million times over. I care about nearly everything, so… I overthink a lot.
An example for you: I mentioned writing a date a 4am essay… that was the result of overthinking. They had responded to every message all week, then suddenly stopped. No response. We had iPhones, so there were “delivered” notes and read receipts. My messages were delivered, but not read. So, I tried to let it go. I made it 3 days. Day 4, all my worries poured out in a 4am essay and my date’s phone finally sent me read receipts. Facepalm. I felt like an idiot for overthinking. I honestly made it 3 days because I was acknowledging that 1) people have lives, and not all of us have the bandwidth to respond immediately, 2) I would be okay, even if my date disappeared – their sudden silence wasn’t defining me, 3) I recognized that I was overthinking things and needed to make more space, the outcome was unknown. Maybe they would text me back, maybe they wouldn’t, only time would tell. 4) I sometimes have to spend some of that energy writing out what is running in my head to let it go, so I use the Notes app on my phone to store my thoughts on various things that I overthink. It helps me, honestly.
Another thing that I learned from that scenario was that I have to set a time period on my message drafts when I recognize the anxiety and overthinking. I can draft a message in Notes, but I can’t send it for at least 24 hours after. Preferably 48-72 hours after because people need time to show you where they’re at. As much as our society has become accustomed to instant gratification, people don’t work that way. People need time to think and process. I need that time to think and process, regularly. So, I am constantly reminding myself that people need time. Nothing I do or say is going to benefit a situation where someone else needs time to process things. In relationships, this is something that I’m constantly struggling with. I want to know everything going on, all the time, because my mind runs too fast. I’ve run all possible scenarios and by the time the other person responds, I’m already hypothesizing the situation we’re in. That’s why I need the reminders. I have to remind myself that my hypotheses are not helpful; only the other person can know what is going on for them and any simulations I run will never determine that outright. I need them to work with me, and for most people, that takes time.
My story this week is about a dance I choreographed to Pink Floyd’s “Brain Damage” (I thought of it because they also have the song “Time.”)
This has to be the weirdest piece I’ve ever choreographed, and it was never performed. We rehearsed it, we poured so much time into it, but every dancer had their own choreography – it fell apart. I have always been good at memorization, so for me the choreography for 5+ dancers to the same song was not too much. Advantage: I choreographed it. Each dancer had a prop and a character, so now you know where this story is going.
The central character used my shinai as their prop, and they spent a lot of the dance doing powerful moves and attacking each of the other characters. The other characters killed her in the end. She was the “lunatic.” I’m pretty literal about things in life.
One character had a weighted hoola hoop. I had a lot of fun finding paths to play with it on the ground and balancing it on my feet, hands, shoulders, etc. The movement was intentionally balanced, but sharp. In my mind, their character was grounded and strong.
Another character had a yoga ball. I had a lot of fun (again) finding ways to roll around on the ball in various positions, lifting it, balancing it, throwing it. The movements were fluid and graceful. I saw that character as a measure of beauty and peace.
Another character had a chair. I had a lot of fun (theme forming) finding ways to move around, under, and over the chair. Ways to play with it on its side and upside-down, etc. The movements were strong and powerful. I saw that character as a measure of control.
Another character had a strip of fabric. Again, lots of fun in finding ways to wrap it, navigate it, stretch it. The movements were full of tension and a sense of frustration. I saw that character as a measure of flexibility, pushing the boundaries.
There were others, but I don’t remember and I need to pull out my notes to see what they were. The piece, though, reminds me of this post. The “lunatic” is my anxiety and overthinking, cutting down my sense of security that comes from grounding, peace, control, and boundaries. In that piece, she attacked them all, and they recovered. They eventually all worked together and wrapped her up in a large red fabric – just like I keep trying to do with my anxiety. I’m not killing it, but I’m finding all the ways I can to subdue it.
If anxiety and overthinking affect your life and relationships, I feel you. I hope you find ways to subdue it.
Love, always, -S.
Shells from a Beach 