As I sit here duelling with a blank Word document β a self-confessed overthinker β it will come as no surprise to my fellow overthinkers that I have overthought whether, or not, I should even attempt to write this article. For, as an overthinker, there is literally nothing that escapes the mentally tyranny of the daily torture that is being an overthinker. The one certainty: only time will tell.
Trying to make sense of an overthinking brain often feels like trying to untangle a football field sized ball of wool; choosing where to start, like trying to find the ends of the yarn. As such, we often just dive in and hope the words we choose are woven into something that makes sense.
To expect a tangent-free story from an overthinker is to expect a rainless British summer. But, in the moment, anything can happen. Our brain is like a hot potato and we tend to be creatures who get overwhelmed easily. There are two types of overthinkers: the mutes and the oversharers.
Often, one evolves into the other, but sometimes you may find yourself ebbing and flowing from one to the other, generally as a result of complex relationship dynamics. However, I used to be the Fort Knox of sharing personal thoughts and feelings; no one was let in and I let nothing out.
Like most life lessons learnt the hard way , I learnt that this was an awful way to live and only augmented my issues of shame, loneliness and fear.
