An overthinking dreamer

Anyone who knows me well enough to be able to express their opinion about me, knows all to well that my overthinking capacities are overwhelming, even though I don’t show it. The intrusive thoughts when panic gradually makes its way up from my stomach to my chest to my mind and back again are something I am working on trying to smother. It’s usually a matter of being afraid of ruining all my hard work up until a certain point and when I lose control of a situation, I panic and terrible thoughts of unpleasant events overcrowd my mind. I’ll even give an understandable account of one such event. My parents mean the world to me and all my teenage years have been spent trying to grow as close to them as possible and having more of a friendly relationship than a strict parent-child one. So much hard work has been put into this on my part that when I once disappointed them, I felt as though everything had been ruined and was irreparably damaged. Sitting on my bed, motionless, demons were on my shoulder, fiendishly whispering how I’ll never be allowed out again, how I’ll never be trusted, how awful of a daughter I proved to be. Tears pricked my eyes and I felt afraid, even though I didn’t have a reason to. I wasn’t in danger, I wasn’t alone, I wasn’t hurt, I wasn’t in a dark alley with a serial killer behind me. After 5 minutes, my father came and called me to eat dinner and surprisingly, everything was perfectly fine. I truthfully loathed the fact that I had wasted precious minutes of my life overthinking, when I could have taken a deep breath, told nyself it would be okay and read a good book. I mentioned “dreamer” in my title for a reason. To clearly state a fact. Imagine you like someone. You daydream, overthinking all the possibilities of you two talking, going out, seeing each other. Most of the times, it takes a while to get to that point or it never ever gets there at all. That’s disappointment. Overthinking dreamer. Cruel, heartless, ruthless disappointment. Overthinking means disappointment, amongst many other things. Being more aware of myself, of my feelings has been a tough game. I’ve worked on this so hard, that again, I feel disappointed when I’m confused and can’t distinguish one feeling from the other. But that’s the worst thing I could do to help myself. I should be proud that, unlike the vast majority, I acknowledge what I feel so well. That I can make proper decisions for myself and for my well-being. It’s a heavy-duty task, but I’m on the right tracks to achieving my goal. Positivity is the key. Self-awareness is, in my opinion, a life-saver.

April 2019, memories from a beautiful art gallery ⏳

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