Sunday, April 13, 2014

Day LXX: Dryer

Reflection is a dangerous game to play with yourself.

When you're an overthinker--like myself--it's easy to trap your mind in teeny tiny death spirals of "what?" and "why?" A moment, caught on tape, reeling through your brain on one mortifying, endless loop. So many shoulds, so many coulds, so many woulds. All of them, reaching and falling, tumbling over one another like sheets in a dryer.

Laundry was a long process today. Blankets, shirts, underwear, towels, socks, jeans, pillowcases, linens, sweats: and that was just one of the loads. Too many things left untended, too many things left in the basket. Dormancy and lethargy are killers when it comes to washing and drying clothing.

A pen of mine made it in to the washer with my first load of apparel. A pilot G2, my favorite make of pen. Washed out and ruined, leaking like a open wound, I tossed it into the trash before more damage could be done. Peering over the gingham and flannel and denim, I was lucky to escape with just one itty-bitty mark on a rarely-worn v-neck which quickly found a new role as a kitchen rag. The rest: free from harm.

To toss aside your thoughts for another day is a great disservice to your sanity. But rolling with them in endless loops of uncertainty is toxic. Factor in an already neurotic personality and you've got days of self-inflicted torture. And that's the curse of the overthinker--you're damned if you do, you're damned if you don't.

So choose to wrestle. Choose to contemplate and mediate and digress and engage your thoughts until you've exhausted them, until you've exhausted yourself. Resolution does not come without work, so working to resolve is the lesser of two evils.

With any luck, the tumbling thoughts find a resting place somewhere on the continuum of comfort.

And what's better than climbing into bed, tucked safely beneath layers and layers of clean, warm sheets?

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