Introspection leads to overthinking ... and that can be a problem

I recently posted about retreating into and embracing my introverted side. I mentioned that leaning into my softer, quieter side would bring reflection and a deeper awareness of my thoughts and feelings. I enjoy this side of me — I enjoy all parts of me — but being quiet and still and pausing to slow my world is never a bad thing.

While I don’t choose when to slide into introspection (my body and mind seems to go there naturally when calm and rest is needed), one of the biggest risks, for me, in slowing down and thinking is, well, thinking.

Thinking, overthinking, then thinking some more. The process can be overwhelming and exhausting. When I’m busy, the overthinking and worrying is kept at bay. Thoughts trickle in and move on. Things that need to be dealt with are but the rest, much like a river, just flows on. 

The stopping, the examination of situations — that’s where my angst is. It rarely happens with practical matters. I handle those thoughtfully, capably and when needed. It’s the personal that twists me up. It’s the relationship puzzles where I change and people change and, when I don’t have time to think about it, it just bumps along. But when I have the time to stop and look at what’s actually going on? Well, that’s when it becomes consuming for me. 

That’s when I  examine what’s happened and is happening and try to figure out why.

That’s when the feelings break. And that’s when I’m forced to acknowledge them. Let them go. And reset. 

I recently wrote a poem using the prompts “loudly quiet silences” and those words spoke to me. I’ve purposely been living in those moments. My home is often quiet — no music, no TV, only the sound of me. The only noise is me completing tasks, me turning pages in a book. Me breathing. Me stopping to sigh, to scream, to laugh as I figure out people and changes and why sometimes people who change frustrate me. Isn’t everyone my age supposedly too old for change? I attempt to hang on to the people and the things that aren’t good for me. Hanging on to what needs to be let go. Hanging on. 

Knowing that brings on the first wave of feelings. The sadness and anger. The confusion. Not of everything and not always but just of the changing situations and “why.” A bit at the people and situations but mostly at myself. What did I do wrong? What could I have done better? Am I too emotional? Too needy? Do I share too much and drive some people away? Did I share the wrong things? Sometimes this self-pitying puts me in a funk, a depression. I’m good with change but not good with it when it comes to people. It might only be a single relationship that has me in flux but, initially, I put every relationship under a microscope. And unless you’re a therapist, which I am not, it’s depressing.

It starts this way. And then it morphs into the “fuck them” phase where I think about how I don’t really want or need them in my life if they don’t want to claim their place in it. So, some “woe is me," some anger, some WTF. It’s an interesting blend.

But this doesn’t last all that long. You see, this emotional girl also, given the time and space, also has a logical side. And a naturally sunny disposition. Once the initial feelings have settled down, a calm resolve takes over. Not a resolve where I need to formulate plans or take action but a steadiness that gives perspective. Acknowledgment. Brings peace. It’s a place where I can see I’ve changed and be grateful for my growth and where I can see the same in other people. And so I give up, give in and release. It’s a silent shrug of my shoulders, a giving back to God, the universe, fate, the situation. It’s a realization with relief that what’s happening isn’t mine to own even if I was part or all of the cause of it. It’s not the happiness and joy of a situation that elates but the happiness of releasing what I’ve been suppressing, thinking about it and being done. It’s about respect for myself and respect for others. We all get to choose. Done. Done. Done.

It’s all such a jumble of emotions, a web of thoughts and one of the things I wish I could change about myself the most. I don’t mind feeling and I’m OK with all of my emotions but sometimes I feel too deeply, too strongly. Years ago, I tried antidepressants and, while they calmed, I felt numb. I had to truly look at myself and see if my highs were truly high and my lows were lows that plummeted me into a dark despair that seemed endless. They were not, not always.

I’ve tried meditation, prayer, yoga. I’ve tried breathing exercises designed to soothe. I’ve journalled and done breathwork and sound baths and restorative yoga. 

It’s all valid and it grounds me temporarily and I’m grateful for that. But I haven’t found a practice yet that speaks to me and levels me consistently. The only thing that seems to work is a time of reckoning where I stop, feel deeply and know that peace is always part of the process.

I’m smiling now, having worked through my thoughts and releasing what needs to be released. Making peace with all that my body and mind declared I needed to stop and make peace with. The loudly quiet silences are still part of my day — especially after time spent with people. But the music is back on, at times. The TV, with Hallmark movies, plays from time to time. None of it meant to drown out my own internal noise because it can exist in harmony with it. 

It’s a beautiful way to be.