I think I’ve used this analogy in a previous post, but it’s just the most perfect one to use…so I have to use it again…
You know the movie, “Twister”? There’s multiple scenes of the tornadoes swirling through the plains picking up trucks and cows and boats and lamp posts and corn stalks and silos and maybe even humans?
Well, these scenes, this is what I imagine is going on inside my head.
A swirling and whirling tornado of thoughts, ideas, emotions and honestly, wild frenzies of mental glory and destruction.
People are going to read this and think, “It’s called a therapist and drugs, Chick A…” And you’re probably right. I’ve had a few people in my life really be cheerleaders for some anti-anxiety meds…and I have seen therapists in my life. Many times. I completely advocate mental therapy, I think everyone in the World could benefit from seeing a therapist. (I have this theory that people who are staunchly against mental therapy, need it the most….it’s so true…but I digress…) Therapy, for me, however enlightening and self-evolving it absolutely was, I found that it just gave me even more “items” to swirl around in my brain. I mean, they gave me so many tools and teachings on how to basically, shut myself up a little….but, then I’m even more analytical, more aware, continually trying to get to the bottom of every single thing I think. “Figure myself out…” It’s all very tiring.
Maybe I should just be on drugs…oh, this post is going to a bad place fast…
Here’s the thing. I think I am a mentally stable person. (Stop rolling your eyes those who are reading this and know me well…) I just am hyper-aware of EVERYTHING. I over think EVERYTHING. I over analyze EVERYTHING. Yes, I know, I am a woman. We tend to do this. Some more than others. I am more, not others. I believe I am way more.
This is why I wanted to have a blog. A literal dumping ground of as many “items” in my head that I can get out of me and onto you. Lucky you. Maybe this blog is my therapy now. Yes, I think it is. Yay!
Just to crack open my brain for you for a second, so that you can even just a teence understand what I’m working with in there (my brain)….here is a conversation that I had in my head yesterday with myself while driving over the Piscataqua River Bridge, which I do every day to get home…ready?
(Guess what else? I have this conversation almost every day on the way home…)
Here’s what it looks like:
“I wonder how many beams are in the bridge?”
“Are they called “beams”? Maybe they’re called “arches…”
“I wish I could pull over so that I could count them.”
“Maybe I could slow down enough to count them.”
“I can’t slow down, I’ll get in an accident.”
“Why do I want to count them? What is wrong with me?? Who cares how many there are?? Is there something wrong with me?? Am I literally OCD? I just feign OCD in jest, but maybe I really do have the actual disorder! What are the symptoms of Autism?? Isn’t one of them having to count everything? Am I Autistic??”
“Shut up in there!” I yell inside my head. “Holy shit, shut up!!!”
But it continues…without my consent…
“Imagine getting in an accident on the bridge?? Oh my God, someone would hit me and then I’d veer off into the side rails and who knows if they’d hold my car because then I’d go off the side and fall 100 feet* into the ocean…and would I be able to get my seat belt off and roll down the window and jump out before my car hit the water? (Am I that nimble?? I’m not! I totally need to lose weight!!) Or is that not what I should do? Should I brace myself for impact inside my car and then quickly get out??? Should I take my bag with me? I have so much stuff in there that I wouldn’t want to lose!! Do you know what a pain it is to lose your wallet?? Your cell phone?? I LOVE this new bag I just got!!”
I started to get heart palpitations.
“Enough!” I’m yelling again at my brain now. “Stop! You don’t need to think about this!! Geez!!!”
“Maybe I’ll just Google how many beams there are when I get home.”
“What should I make for dinner?”
It’s exhausting. Being me. It really is. Mind you, this is just ONE of probably a thousand conversations like this that I have inside my twister brain….every….single….day.
So, about that Xanax….
Thanks for the free therapy, y’all…send me an invoice….wait, do you take my health insurance???
*I just made this up, I also have this disorder where I have absolutely zero comprehension of height or distance. I said 100 feet, but it could be 200…it could be 1000 feet, it could be 10 feet. But, I’m pretty sure it’s more than 10 feet.