Thursday, January 28, 2016

Overthinking It

From grade school, to junior high, to high school, to adult life, "overthinking it" has been my mantra through sighs time and again. When life is great, overthinking takes a back seat. However, that old, familiar feeling eventually creeps back into my mind when I feel that I'm falling short in some aspect or another.

A solstice comes and goes without so much as a prayer, let alone a ritual - "Am I a good Pagan?"

A new class begins with an overwhelming misunderstanding of the material - "Is this really what I want to do with my life?"

A new man becomes an important part of your world, then begins to disappear - "Did I come on too strong?"

In the end, the overthinking leads to deep self-doubt, regardless of the situation.
But why?
Why do I feel "less than" when I think about situations more than what society seems to put out as "normal?" What is the norm for thinking? Is there a minimum and a maximum level of thought that is expected in defined moments? Who decides what is too much? In bullying and abuse cases, the victims are the people who decide what is "too much." So, if Jane is feeling put out with a problem she may have, does she define the "right" level of processing? But what if Jane's issue is all in her head? She can talk about it with someone to decide if that is the case. And, if Jane is overthinking an issue with John that she's made up on her own, does John define the level of thought as "too much?" Does that make him the victim, and so, the deciding party? And, what if Jane and John have an issue, agreed upon by both at the beginning of said conversation? Does the most offended person have the right to blow up?
No situation gives any party the right to blow up. That implies total loss of control, and will only end in further conflict; no resolution there.
But, how does one explain thoughts that have inflated beyond the situation so that the conflict (or imagined conflict) can be resolved? I know I'm not the only one here who has had inner conflict, and wanted so badly to discuss it with the other party, but terrified to do so. "What if he shuts down? What if he's not interested in making it work? What if I scare him away with my neediness?" That happened. And the conversation happened. And he played it off. And I stopped texting him first to see if I'd ever hear from him again.
And I never did.
Some of you who have been readers for a while may recall that whole mess.
So, you'll excuse me if my trust issues are coming back around. Previous boyfriends whittled my trust when they cheated on me (which pretty near all of my boyfriends have done.) Then, that guy introduced a whole new kind of mistrust - mistrust in myself. I let myself revolve my life around him. I became *that* girl. You all know her (some of you may be her, too) - she's independent, but the moment a new, amazing guy waltzes into her life, hobbies, aspirations, free time = gone. He may not even be asking it of her, but she gives it up freely. Whether or not it's attractive to the opposite sex (or same sex, no judgement here), is irrelevant, I feel. Maybe I feel it's irrelevant because I don't want it to be relevant, because I am that girl. Who knows? In any case, I want to be loved and wanted as much as I love and want someone else. I don't think that's asking too much.
Then again, maybe I'm overthinking it?

Thursday, January 14, 2016


It's never enough. I was single for roughly seven years. (Those failed attempts at relationships in the past few years don't count, because love was never truly exchanged.) Now, happily...ish, I find myself nearly seven months into a new relationship. He is everything I've always wanted and needed, and some things I never knew I wanted (and needed.) He is my Sun, Moon, and all of my stars.
Then there's that "ish."
We're moving together, but at different paces. Think of me walking a few steps ahead of him. We're going in the same direction with (I'm fairly certain) the same endgame in mind. But I feel disjointed. I want him to move at a pace that works for him, but I'm getting impatient.
Why can't knowing I am with this incredible man be enough? Why do I have to second guess myself, or him?
And, bad Pagan! I found myself flipping through one of my BoSs the other day. Boo! Hiss! I know. I haven't considered that option since I was new to the Path in high school. I know better, and would never resort to manipulation. But when you are ready to move forward, and the loneliness is comparative to that experienced when you were single, how can you stay strong?
I want him to realize that I am not going anywhere, I have a love so pure that begs to be shared, and want him to continue to grow and be who he is, so there is no need to be afraid to leap. I'm all in.
Is the question, then, not "Why isn't being in a relationship enough for me?" but rather, "Am I just not enough?"
Have you found your Sun and Moon? Did you wonder if he/she felt less than excited in the beginning? How did it pan out? Naturally, I'm afraid of the answers. Also, my over thinking could well be that my hypothyroid is out of whack again. Ugh...

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