Thinking yourself to death is completely, utterly possible. Some days, Life gets you so frustrated to the point where memories, what ifs and other countless thoughts race through your mind without a finish line in sight. And, you have no other choice but to deal with that ball of pain sitting in the middle of your fragile chest.
Personally, I’m an overthinker myself. So many questions about all that has happened in my life pop up quite often, something I’d say is a symptom of loneliness. Because, on most days you’ll find me by myself, either working or writing and not much else. A limbo I’ve been resting in for the past five years learning about who I am as a human being.
Only problem with it is, each wall starts closing in on you, eventually. The outside world begins to feel like a mirage you desperately want to run away from and never experience again. Why? Way too much time to think for yourself in a Universe that can only flourish through balance. Your thoughts, as dark as they may be, become your place of residence rather than the physical plane of existence. And, as time moves along, you’ll find yourself asking one particular question. Why couldn’t I just get up and do something different?
Some would say that I’m too hard on myself, as I’m sure so many others are. But, in the same breath, I have my reasons coercing me to be. As much as I’ve drowned in my own body of tears in the past and present time, others have drowned in theirs after I had broken their levees whether or not it was an accident. Those awful memories where you’ve hurt others just stick to you like blood on a plain, white t-shirt, especially as an old soul who finds it difficult to move on from the past.
I don’t know. Maybe, writing all of this is my way of distracting myself from overthinking. A break from a reality I fight hard to change each and every single day and night passing by, while hoping others don’t do the same…