The Over-thinker

For some reason, whenever we are going through something, we are always urged by everyone to talk about it.

Why is that?

Is there some sort of a link between our mouths and our feelings whereby as soon as we express them verbally, they get released from us? Because if so, I think I need to get rewired.

Anyone who knows me personally knows I don't like to talk about my feelings. It's bad enough I don't even know how to express them or deal with them appropriately ... now you want me to talk about it? No thank you.

I mean even on this blog where I am supposed to write about my personal feelings (you know, From my heart to yours?) I never actually ever say exactly what is going on in my life. And that is how I deal with things in real life too. Like the true writer I am, I speak and deliver messages in metaphors, similes and analogies - anything to avoid actually opening up.

But for those very few times when someone has gotten me to chat, I discovered that talking about my feelings does not cheer me up. In fact, I wholeheartedly believe that all it does is the exact opposite. It opens up wounds that were otherwise stitched up. Maybe the stitches needed to be tightened or a new bandage added, but the fact of the matter is, I always have been and always will be an introvert. Journalist or not. I am naturally a quiet, analytical and pensive observer.

An over-thinker.

And I get by just fine on good days when everything is swept under the rug. 

This is the reason why I have never ever been interested in taking part in recreational "drug" use, if you get my drift. I just feel like my brain would kick into an analytical overdrive that is not safe for human capacity and quite frankly, I'd just die.

I think more than enough when I am sober.

With that being said, it is very rare that I share my personal thoughts with anyone - almost never willingly. So while I do appreciate everyone's concern, I would also appreciate if my "thanks, but no thanks" got adhered to after the first time (as opposed to the second or third or fourth ... after which I'm sure to be extremely irritated and probably am going to ignore you).

Most of the times, I am probably not that sad anyway. I've just never learned how to properly let go of anything and I still really believe that I can singlehandedly save the world and make every one happy all the time.

Everyone, that is, except myself.


P.S. It's no coincidence that I am writing this blog today, Jan. 29, on the anniversary, for lack of a more appropriate word, of my cousin's death. It's also no coincidence that I am in a somber mood. My January's have never been the same.. (yes, that is a link for those who don't know the story.)

Rest in paradise Zanz. We remember you today and always. <3>