Overthinking is my middle name. Actually, no, that’s a lie—it’s Wanjiru. But if names reflected personalities, I’d be Overthinking Mary(or is it Mary the Overthinker? See? I’m doing it already). If indecision were a sport, I’d be competing at the Olympics and second-guessing whether I should’ve worn the gold medal or framed it instead.
It’s not a lifestyle I chose, mind you. It just kind of happened. Like that friend who always shows up uninvited and overstays their welcome, overthinking decided to take permanent residence in my brain.
It always starts small. Like deciding what to eat. Simple? Wrong. My brain turns it into a full-blown board meeting with the agenda: “Will this decision ruin my life?”
“What’s for dinner?” spirals into:
- What’s in the house?
- Did I finish the ugali flour?
- Should I just go with rice? But rice again?
- Will this choice make me lazy and uninspired?
- What if I suddenly develop some rare food allergy?
- Is this why I am underweight?
By the time I’m done deliberating, I’ve lost my appetite. Honestly, at this point, even my stomach is like, “Pick something. Anything.”
Social events are prime overthinking material. Did I respond to that WhatsApp message too quickly? Did my “lol” sound genuine, or will they think I’m laughing out of pity? And don’t even get me started on goodbyes.
Ever left a gathering and immediately replayed the entire evening in your head? Same. Did I hug too long? Did I forget someone’s name? Did I come across as awkward or, worse, uninterested?
One time, I joked about my weight at a friend’s party (because self-deprecating humor is my jam), and later, I convinced myself everyone thought I was actually insecure about it. Spoiler: no one cared. But try telling that to my brain, which turned it into a two-hour think-piece at 3 a.m.
When it comes to big decisions—career moves, relationships, or even just which blog topic to write next—my overthinking shifts into maximum overdrive. I’ll weigh every pro, con, hypothetical, and conspiracy theory.
Take my career path, for example. Should I stick with the “stable” option? Or pursue the risky, slightly impractical dream? What if I regret it in ten years? What if I regret not doing it? What if the decision I make causes an existential crisis for Future Me?
Meanwhile, Present Me just wants to nap.
You know what’s worse than overthinking? Overthinking your overthinking. It’s like looking at a mirror reflection of a mirror reflection—it goes on forever, and you just feel vaguely nauseous.
Some thoughts I’ve had about my overthinking:
- “Why can’t I just chill like everyone else?”
- “What if I’m broken?”
- “Does everyone secretly think I’m dramatic?”
- “I should really see a therapist, but what if they overanalyze me?”
It’s a vicious cycle, but hey, at least it keeps me entertained.
As exhausting as it is, overthinking has its moments. For one, it makes me incredibly prepared. While other people are winging it, I’ve already thought through 17 scenarios, including alien invasions and global yogurt shortages. You never know.
Plus, it’s made me a pretty good storyteller. Case in point: this blog post. Sure, I’ll probably reread it 15 times and second-guess whether it’s funny enough, but hey, perfectionism is just overthinking with a fancy hat.
Will I ever stop overthinking? Unlikely. It’s not something you just quit cold turkey, like sugar or toxic relationships. But I’ve learned to give myself some grace. Life’s messy. Decisions are messy. And sometimes, the best thing you can do is flip a coin and move on.
Unless it’s a life-altering decision. In that case, you should probably consult a trusted friend—or, you know, me, your local Overthinking Expert. I’ll come up with 38 solutions, none of which I’ll actually commit to.
So here’s to all my fellow overthinkers: may your spirals be short, your conclusions decisive, and your snacks plentiful as you navigate the chaos. Or don’t. I mean, no pressure. Whatever you decide.
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