June 3, 2025
Often, I get fixated on a thought. It can be good, bad or meaningless. I’ll work the thought over and over like clay until it’s ruined or something that might be able to pass for a sculpture.
Sometimes it’s information that I deem practical like the percentage of international players in each of the major sports league. Not very practical since I haven’t needed to correct anyone yet that the National Hockey League is comprised of only 29% United States nationals.
Sometimes the thought is generally positive. “You’re fine. Just keep going and you’ll be fine.” I’ve noticed myself defaulting to pushing thoughts like self doubt and insecurities down until it seems like they aren’t even there anymore.
Sometimes the thought is a bit dark. I’ve been having one of those over the past few months. It is as follows:
My wife has died. We weren’t together when it happened. I had to identify her body in an underground room that had floor to ceiling white subway tiles and harsh overhead lights. The funeral was a couple days later. I’m not sure where it was, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone. After the funeral, I go back to our home. Our dog doesn’t know it’s just me now. Washing her laundry in the hamper would mean removing her final scents from the world. There’s a hair tie on the nightstand that grabbed a couple of strands. Those hairs are some of the last physically remnants left.
Fucked up, right? I imagine some psychologist would have an absolute heyday unpacking that one.
The part of that thought that hits me is thinking about the last remnants. The strands of hair. I think about how that feeling would be greatly amplified after decades of marriage and life. It is my understanding that one can actually suffer and eventually die from a broken heart. Didn’t waste my time researching but I’ve heard that before.
That particular thought is apparently deliciously dark. Meaning I can’t totally help myself. Like a glutton whose weak programming gets wiped and reset when there’s a piece of chocolate cake nearby.
For me, there is usually some satisfactory outcome to overthinking. It could be a different way of framing the situation that is more agreeable. Maybe it’s over preparation for a social or professional conversation. A decision to a dilemma. Try as I might, that satisfactory outcome isn’t always swift.
What do the stands of hair say about me? I’ve placed a lot of emphasis on the fulfillment and happiness I receive from my wife. I’m not sure what I would do if I only had strands of hair left. My heart might break.
In my probable naivety, I’ve decided that overthinking is a good thing on the whole. Just need to get where you need to be.
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