If I got paid for obsessing, I’d be a very wealthy woman.
I would.
On occasion, I do it so much that I’ve even have to sometimes obsess about my obsessing.
Which is why I’m bringing it here, to you. You’re welcome.
Take, for prime example, a dream I had the other night.
It was brought on by the fact that I am angry with my husband, which I’m obsessing about, by the way. I’ll get into THAT in a moment.
The dream was so vivid. So real. It was simply this though…he sent me a text which read “I want a divorce. But, don’t worry, you’re a pretty girl, you’ll be fine.”
I woke up and checked my texts because I didn’t know, at that moment, if this was real or not.
No text.
But then I emailed him to tell him about my dream.
He’s camping right now, with our son and some other people.
I haven’t heard back from him. No text, no return email…nothing.
So, I’ve been a little obsessing about that, too. Especially because of the fact that there was, indeed, bad blood between us before he left.
I OBSESS over the fact that I’m sick of being taken for granted, the way everything comes before me and my thoughts and feeling aren’t taken into consideration because I am not like that, nor was I raised that way.
Sometimes I worry about things that come out of my mouth. Did I say it too loud and was it heard by the wrong person? Was it inappropriate? And etc.
I think about things that people have done to me, whether intentionally or not.
I sometimes get stuck in a perpetual state of amazement regarding others actions. I hash and rehash, whether it be in conversation or in my head.
Oh, and let’s talk about body image obsessing…UGH.
I obsess about the typical blogger stuff…stats, why am I not a bigger blog when I’ve been at this for so long…etc. I’m sure that most of you bloggers can relate to that particular one, eh?
I mean crap, right now…I’m semi-obsessing about whether or not I should hit publish when I’m done because you all are going to think I’m insane. And I promise, I’m not. My shrink confirmed that 😉 I can have him send you the file if you don’t believe me!
Now trust me, I don’t obsess THAT obsessively. I go through bouts. Which, so happens, I’m going through one right now. This particular time, I know what brought it on.
I think that, on the most part, insecurity is the trigger and MAYBE PMS, I’m not a mental health care professional so, I dunno. And thankfully, insecurity isn’t something I wrestle with on a day to day basis. Either is PMS. Phew.
I DO know that this is one area of my life that I wish I could change. I wish I could just shrug things off without giving it a care in the world.
But I can’t.
I’ve tried.
Which brings me to you…
If you are anything like me, what do you do to overcome these momentary lapses of non-obsessing?
I’ll be checking in obsessively to see what you have to say!
I can work myself up into a hot mess, tizzy over something I only imagine will happen in a particular situation. In all these cases, not once has my obsession actually occurred. It’s in our DNA, we just can’t help it.
Tara R.´s last blog post ..Villa Tasso
Must be that time of the year. Yesterday I heard a voice that I did not recognize scream at my boyfriend. It was an ugly cry, scream that I was just sick of it, being taken forgranted. I couldn’t take it anymore and I lost it. I don’t know how to stop, I feel better, better that I showed him what he was doing to me cause “he had no idea that’s how I felt.” Well he saw and he knows. I’m going to start going to a shrink, so maybe I’ll have some tips on how to stop obsessing. All my best.
I do this too once in a while and especially in certain situations. My husband likes to tell me that I make more out of something then is necessary… he might be right. But I won’t tell him that!
Jackie´s last blog post ..Monday Menu ~ Baked Sweet Plantains
I am one obsessive person. Really. I use exercise (to the point of exhaustion) to flush my mind and body of this debilitating problem. But then I realize I am obsessing about exercise. D’oh!
Middle State´s last blog post ..Feathers
The one good thing about aging is that little by little you don’t care as much. I used to be a constant worrier. A few trials and tribulations made me realize it was a waste of time and effort. Let the small stuff go to start. It isn’t worth the stress.