Yes, this is the title of a real book. No, I did not write it, I do not own it, and I have not read it. I found it at the library, skimmed the table of contents, and put it back. Too stressful!
I do not believe that I am alone in being one of those women who thinks too much. I over-analyze. I look for the hidden meaning. I drive my husband crazy.
"That's not what I said!"
"But it's what you meant!"
But I over-think in other ways as well. Too often I cannot sleep because there are so many thoughts running through my mind. They can be pleasant, like if I'm excited about something or making plans. Or they can be unpleasant, like if I'm stressed or working on something difficult in my life. My mind will race from topic to topic, worried that something will slip by that is important or that I won't remember in the morning. Sometimes writing it down helps, other times nothing does and I am up playing Word Whomp on the computer for hours. Too often I am seeing 5:00am from the ugly side (as if 5:00am has a good side).
It's what my Buddhist meditation dvd calls a monkey mind. I have a monkey mind. Flitting from one thing to the next like a monkey through the branches of a tree.
I have also been accused of being a deep thinker. Maybe accused isn't the best choice of words here; people usually mean it as a compliment. But it isn't always a good thing. Sometimes I miss a lot by skipping the shallow thinking (as others put it). Sometimes I skip right by the obvious and basic and see only the complicated and heavy.
And as frustrating as thinking too much can be, as crazy as I make myself when I can't shut my brain down, it's nothing compared to those days when I can barely think at all. Those days when I can't seem to really lock onto a single thought long enough to process it through. Those days when the best I can hope for is to pay attention long enough to find the plot in a fluff movie. I hate those days!
The in-between days are sure nice. How come I can only recognize them in the rear view mirror?