Thinking Too Much

There is something that's been a part of me for much longer than I've been able to put a name to it. It's been integral to me since I've been self-aware, and only relatively recently was I able to label it. This forum seems to be as likely a place to talk about it as I'm going to find, so here goes.

I think too much.

People have been telling me that for years, and I didn't quite understand what they meant when they said "Don't think too much." I now see what they meant, and it comes with the knowledge that there is absolutely nothing I can do to change it.

I'm not so self-absorbed as to miss the fact that I'm not the only person who thinks this way. Thanks to the web, I've found online sites that describe in pretty vivid detail exactly what I'm talking about. I've just never met another person like me, well, in person. The people I see walking around aren't wearing the expression of slight distraction, or preoccupation with several things at once. Or at least, not perpetually.

I habitually put way too much thought into any one topic, or a few at the same time. As I come to look at a thing, topic, idea, story, or fact from every conceivable angle, rather than come to a stop; I jump the fence and start looking at a tangent, or god help us, something completely random and unrelated. It's just the way things are.

Now, this has nothing to do with intelligence. I'm not a genius. The complexities of mathematics elude me like a jackelope with half an hour's head start. I have no great mind for the sciences, either. Chemistry, biology, technology, it's all Greek to me. Which I don't speak. It's just that I always have to be thinking about something, regardless of how smart I am.

Here's an example: I'll be driving to work, listening to the radio. Suddenly I'll find myself taking apart the DJ's use of grammar. A few different ways to convey what he just said pop into my head, unasked for.

I analyze. I read voraciously. I lie awake at night in bed for half an hour before I fall asleep. I have conversations with myself because I have nothing better to do, and it helps to occupy the stock ticker in my head.

There are upsides. If I come across a personal problem I don't think I can handle, I'm able to relax a bit, because I know it's only a matter of time before my mind breaks it down into something I can figure out. Regardless of whether or not I'm actively poring over it.

Also, writing is easier for me than it is for some people. They ask me how I come up with ideas for Slam Poetry, I tell them it just comes out. Stream-of-consciousness stuff is my specialty. And with fiction: when the vein hits, it's like a floodgate opening up. My fingers just have to keep up to pin the ideas down, before they get replaced by whatever's coming after them. The plots I have lined up for Tuxxer are going to be long, intricate, and complex. It's easier to keep track of what goes where, when, etc., because of the overactive cerebellum.

It does get tiresome. There are a few ways to help ignore it, for a while. Watching a good movie for the first time. Meeting new people and getting to know them. Having a drink or three. Sex. Correction: Sex with the right person. With the wrong person, it only adds to the list of things to think about. With the right person, everything stops. And it's marvelous.

Apart from reading too much into what people say and do, which can have disastrous consequences, the other greatest downside to the whole bag is the capacity to worry. With a fertile imagination as its vehicle, one can dream up all sorts of disasters to explain why a loved one hasn't called or come home yet, on a rainy night. Can't turn it off, can only change the station or try to ignore it. Them's the breaks.

It's a horrible cliche', but it's still true: I wouldn't change the way I think if I could. I'm not saying don't try to change my mind on things. But the amount of thinking that goes on... that's okay. Yeah, it occasionally sucks beyond all reason, but it also partially defines me. I'm unique for it, and a dozen other quirks. The last thing I'd want to be in this world is mundane, or mediocre. Standing out of line a bit can only be a good thing. Hell, when I was in elementary school, I prized being called weird. What can I say.

I wonder if this is how Radio DJ's feel; talking to people who they can't see, and can't be certain they're really listening. It's a bit of a comfort, the quasi-anonymity (as anonymous as I can be, with my picture, name, and home town in the corner. Dumbass.) in this. It's no coincidence that the first day I blog is the day I expound on the biggest, oldest issue I have. Hooray for the internet.

Adios. There will be more later. I guarantee it.