MY CLUTTERED MIND

Mine is a cluttered mind, full of facts and theories, hopes and fears, logic and emotion. My thoughts swirl around so loudly in my head that I’m most surprised the noise doesn’t disturb those around me. My very sensitive husband claims that most times, he can hear the noise of my brain. My as-sensitive son concurs.

Many times I sit down to pull the thoughts out of my brain hoping that the process of writing will free me from thought, but instead the act of emptying my thoughts onto paper allows the other thoughts to rattle around more freely, generating more noise until my head wants to explode, so I have to stop writing.

Many times I sit down at the computer hoping that the act of typing will force my thoughts to flow in a disciplined manner but instead I find that I am distracted by the blinking of the cursor. It is like the lighthouse beacon, prodding my thoughts to find their way to the space where the blinker once was.

So I stop writing, not because I have nothing to say but because I have so much to say and it feels as thought the thoughts will never end. If I thought my thoughts were worth sharing I would not be so disturbed but instead I read what I wrote and I think, “What was I thinking?”

Why do I think the things I think? I wonder how many people think as often or as deeply as I do, but more often I wish I could one of those people who think less.

So I google “cluttered mind” and discover that there are many who too, think too much, but that does not make me feel less alone. I naturally align myself more with Albert Einstein than the tattoo artist from Florida, but chances are that we are all three alike. That takes my thoughts to an entirely different situation which reminds me of a show my spouse taped for me on Attention Deficit Disorder. The show was close to 2-hrs so naturally I didn’t watch it all (though the portions I saw where done quite well!) but I know it was an excellent piece of work for one of the noted experts was Dr. Edward Hallowell, a man whose writings helped me understand far more of myself than my previous therapists. [In fact, as soon as Dr. Hallowell was showcased I stopped watching the show to get his book off the shelf, which according to my spouse is evidence of my ADHDI, as if we really needed more evidence.]

This is my cluttered mind. I start out thinking one thought and planning to go in one direction but I rarely end up at my destination. When I have something absolutely critical to think about I pull out my poster which has served me well for several decades. It reads, “FOCUS”.

I sat down to write about my emotions and why I haven’t been around much, but that was far too difficult a subject for today. I will save that for tomorrow, tomorrow.

Continuation

The problem with new beginnings is that it automatically implies an ending. Not much has changed about me since I was that little girl skipping to School #5 in Baltimore, Maryland. I am the same little girl, only larger and better informed. Yesterday as I was trying to explain the concept of infinity to my son, I realized that I still think many of the same thoughts, such as wondering how language came to be and if infinity truly is the largest number. How does one approach negative infinity? Despite my many years of formal education and so-called superior intellect, I fell back on the same explanation my oldest brother gave to me when I was a mere seven ... "think of the largest number you can think of and then add one".

To me infinity will always be "plus one". So, I don't do new beginnings because I can't let go of who I was yesterday in order to become who I want to be tomorrow.

Every time I say I'm going to change, my husband laughs, as I can only imagine that God also chuckles, if only just a wee bit. I say I'm going to be kinder, more compassionate, and less intolerant but that usually lasts less than a fleeting instant. I don't think I'm mean, but I know I am not kind. My mind doesn't see what my heart should feel. Being me, I've read several books on the subject and I can probably explain how the symphony in my brain has a conductor that can't quite seem to get all the instruments to play together, but you would have had to have read the book to know what I am talking about. I could explain how my neurons misfire in such a manner that I'm missing that pause between "think" and "do", but unless you are well verses in impulsivity, you'll just think it's Karen rambling on again. Instead, suffice it to say that I'm tired of trying to rewire my brain. As much as I enjoyed biofeedback, e-stem, psychological counseling, and other attempts to mold me into society definition of "normal", I'm not going to change.

If I were to change, who is to say it would be in a positive direction?