The Trouble With Overthinking

Im typing and in the back of my mind I am desperately trying to think of ways to be hilarious or meaningful in some way, so if you are reading this now Thankyou.

Thanks for taking the time out of your life to take a look at what might be happening in mine. Its late and I should go to bed, but being the expert overthinker I am, I figured it was time to write something partially relatable about it.

Overthinking is where your brain becomes hooked like a fish on bait onto a specific thought, concept , worry, illness..the list is endless. I could be sitting with a mug of tea in one breath and then believing that the world will end in another.

It is my brain’s way of punishment for all of this pent up anxiety, or that is my view anyway. Overthinker’s come in many forms shapes and sizes, but they all have one thing in common. Their minds are almost definitely working at a 100 miles per hour to figure out what you meant when you said “thats an interesting jacket you’ve got on today”.

I dont have any form of advice to give you to help with your overthinking because that would be like the blind leading the blind really, considering Im struggling to stay above water.

But here is something that may be helpful – Find an outlet, punch some pillows, go for a run or even have a netflix marathon to distract you from all of little worry critters that are currently eating away at your brain.

Life ? No Id rather spend all day in bed thanks

I visited a psychic a year ago, mainly out of sheer desperation to know the ins and out of my future, and also for the incredibly selfish reason as to whether I would be successful and rich..or not.

However gypsy rose on clacton pier gave me neither of those answers  and instead proceeded to tell me  ( whilst holding on to my sweaty palm) about the many short relationships I would encounter, Someone close to me being in hospital, and the fact that Im going to have two children in the distant future..which is pretty much standard for adults anyhow.

The point is..is that none of us really have any clue as to how the future is going to turn out, and we spend so much time dwelling on what could have happened/what is going to happen, that we actually miss the crazy stuff happening in the present.

It seems to be so easy to focus on the past or the future, that sometimes it becomes difficult to enjoy the now and appreciate The gift that is called the present ( yes I did just steal that from kung fu panda, no I have no shame) It can be tricky to enjoy that amazing slice of cake in the now..when most likely in a few short minutes,  whats on your mind is, that cake is most certainly going to be demolished.

But  in the midst of eating that cake, try to savour every bite and appreciate being able to taste it …a bit like life..try and savour every bit of the good stuff going on whilst your brain is busy cramming in all of the future and past crap, so you can enjoy being in the present a little more.

The art of drunk dialling your Ex…

Dont do it. Just Don’t do it.

They are an ex for a reason, confessing your love to them at 1 am although extremely satisfying in the moment does not make for great reflection the morning after.

There have been times* respectively  where I have been tackled to the ground by an extremely awesome friend to prevent me from doing something I will seriously regret when the shit hits the fan in the morning

But somehow the will is so much stronger than the love of a good pal and next thing you know I am punching that number in on my cracked phone screen with all of the vigour I can possibly muster through my already blurred vision, just waiting to hear the voice of someone who will eventually think Im a batshit crazy stalker.

And as much as we tell ourselves that we will never do it again…we do, why?

because we are simple creatures that never seem to want to learn from our self inflicted mistakes and the wound never really closes does it ?

we never get the chance to have the “last word” or say the “proper goodbye”.

Its as though if we can be in their lives a bit longer, our dignity can be restored bit by bit.

And this is sadly not the case because in the end you literally turn into that person with hundreds of cats, eating her toenails, and laughing manically to herself. Have some self respect. please.

stop being so awkward and give me my shit back ……sorry for the curse word

Ive decided to write about a something that has seemed to occur quite a few times in life and the lives of those around me .  It has occurred when some “hanky panky” happens with one lucky lad….and maybe after that they feel a bit awkward, or they regret it happening  and just decide to make the completely mature decision to  block you out of their life infinitely.

The only issue is, they decide to make this wholehearted and frustrating decision AFTER you realise you left something of yours at their house or in their possession .

This can be an earring, some water-bottles, your favourite bra, an awesome sweatshirt, even an old tissue.

Frankly though It doesn’t really matter what it is actually, the fact remains that it is legally yours and therefore you are in the absolute right to  hound them into giving it back to you.

I don’t care that youve made the stupid and cowardly decision to never speak to me again, Im actually just very passionate about that old pair of much loved socks that are suffering in your  presence.

I may feel hurt that your childlike nature has prevented you from acting like a mature and sensible adult that can have a decent adult conversation about things in a Mature manner.

But please just give me my pack of tissues back. Behave like a little boy all you like but I know that I left my Earrings on top of your bedside table, and I’m sure as hell coming to retrieve them from your pathetic life.

So just know that when you are receiving lots of annoying text messages from your old “conquest” please don’t be so big-headed to think for one second that we are missing you- we are actually missing the shit that you’ve illegally kept.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.