Jul 152013
 

I’m the first to admit my flaws and point out my shortcomings. I do it first (before you have a chance to). I do it loudly (to underscore my awareness of their existence).

Dumb Domme… it’s how I introduced myself to you.

It’s not that I honestly believe I’m dumb (or stupid, uneducated, senseless, thoughtless, generally ignorant, etc.). It’s that I fear I might be. And just in case I am, I’ll be the one to say it first.

My admissions are preemptive self-defense against insecurity — I set expectations low and reinforce them often.

I’m over-sensitive, I’m irrational, I’m excessively emotional.
I’m not good at this, I’m clumsy, I lack experience, skill, and grace.
I’m overly invested, I’m obsessive, I’m excessively focused.
I’m unsure, I’m indecisive, I’m insecure.
I feel too much, I feel too little, I feel wrong.
I’m too selfish, I’m too selfless, I’m too self-centered.

Those statements aren’t always true, nor are they true to the degree I represent them. (Forget the fact that half of them conflict).

But as antecedent strikes against the fear of possessing undesirable qualities and shame over exhibiting them, I belt my shortcomings loudly and often. I shout them from the rooftops. (I put them in the title of my blog.) I admit to ‘flaws’ so frequently that I begin to question their grounding in reality.

If you repeat something long enough, you begin to believe it. My admissions have become a destructive sort of mantra, and I fear they’re self-fulfilling.

Of the ‘flaws,’ ‘shortcomings,’ and ‘quirks’ that I admit to, overthinking is one I cite the most.

I’m thoughtful… too thoughtful. I think too much. I think too often.
I think about the little things. I think about the wrong things.
I can’t simply accept something without pulling it apart, examining
it’s pieces, it’s exigence, and it’s potential consequence.

I think too much. I’ve said it in posts, in responses to readers’ comments, and in my own responses to writers elsewhere.

It’s an admission of (an excuse for?) who I am. It’s an explanation of my enjoyment — I like to poke at things. It’s an apology (in advance) if I poke too much or too hard. It’s an a priori excuse for being thoughtful, or invested, or curious, or different, or female, or sensitive, or any of the other million things I make unnecessary apologies for.

It’s begging your forgiveness for things that don’t require forgiving… as if being thoughtful and curious are characteristics that demand apology.

I admit that my curiosity and overthinking is sometimes inconvenient. It does (sometimes) undermine my happiness. It might (sometimes) complicate yours.

But in general, I’m thankful to be the way I am. I think it makes my life richer — my thoughts more vivid, my emotions more intense, and my experiences more meaningful for it. I’m grateful my curiosity allows me to find meaning where it might have been otherwise overlooked. I’m grateful I can make meaning where there is none.

That added meaning comes with benefits and costs — the highs are higher, and the lows are lower, too.

My overthinking isn’t something I can change, and despite its sometimes inconvenience, I’m not sure I want to.

Is it silly to find value in such a thing? Is it dumb?

Perhaps.

But it’s nothing you didn’t already know about me… because it’s nothing I haven’t already admitted.

 


† overthink, v: “To consider or ponder too hard or too seriously; to think too much about” (OED). Or, to engage in ‘too much’ of any/all of the following: analysis, brooding, contemplation, deliberation, examination, ideation, introspection, meditation, musing, pondering, speculation, study, reflection, rumination, etc.

 

  14 Responses to “overthinking”

  1. I also enjoy overthinking, almost as much as my own overthinking drives me crazy. For example, I spent a full day making floor plans for a house in Adobe InDesign. A house for a character in a short story I’m writing.

    Did I need floor plans? No. Were my friends at all surprised that I had done this? No. They find my occasional foray into obsessive detail endearing. I have no idea how, but they’ve said as much, so it must be true.

    I see no problem enjoying it now and then. Sometimes you might think yourself in circles, but other times you might see something you didn’t the first time through. I think that’s useful for growing as a person. So, in closing, I like your blog and enjoy your writing. *exit, stage left*

    • I also enjoy overthinking, almost as much as my own overthinking drives me crazy.

      Yes to this. I enjoy it as a characteristic more than I enjoy it in practice. :)

      Sometimes you might think yourself in circles, but other times you might see something you didn’t the first time through.

      This is true, but sometimes I end up seeing things that aren’t there. :)

      So, in closing, I like your blog and enjoy your writing. *exit, stage left*

      Thank you. :) Also, the door stage left is locked. Sorry about that. *watches you awkwardly push, pull, and sheepishly walk stage right…*

      • I tried to respond to your response a few times, but couldn’t stop laughing long enough to type. Tugging at an obviously locked door and walking away sheepishly is something I could easily see myself doing, though I might attempt a power smile for humorous effect on the way to the other door. Then I’d stand looking at the other door just long enough to blow my cover before attempting to open it.

        And if you lock that one too, I’ll jump off-stage and leave through the back. Just saying. ;)

        • Tugging at an obviously locked door and walking away sheepishly is something I could easily see myself doing, though I might attempt a power smile for humorous effect on the way to the other door. Then I’d stand looking at the other door just long enough to blow my cover before attempting to open it.

          It’s nothing I haven’t already done.

          Fuck checking the other door. Let’s jump off stage and leave out the back, shall we? We can do it all dramatic-like. (You drop the mic, I’ll knock over the stool). :)

  2. Don’t worry. We’re all a bit schizoid. It’s the price we pay for creating the ‘false self’, with all its paradoxes and contradictions, that society demands of us. Some people are smart enough to be aware of their own inner chaos, which is both a blessing and a curse.

    FWIW, I think that kink gets us to a place where the false self is shattered and the inner Proteus is liberated. That’s part of its attraction.

    • Thanks for the comment, GOS. Also, for the record, while I have no first hand knowledge of your age or switchiness, you certainly don’t seem all that grumpy. *squints suspiciously*

      FWIW, I think that kink gets us to a place where the false self is shattered and the inner Proteus is liberated.

      Most of the time, I don’t feel all that ‘spiritual’ about kink. I have my moments, but in general, sex is sex and kink is kink and it’s all in good fun, but my inner Proteus is well-secured. :)

  3. I find it weird that you seem to dislike the name “Dumb Domme” so much; I think it is brilliant and envy you the clever name!

    As you said, it is not that you are dumb. Instead, to me, it highlights a security many of us have — of being “dumb” or at least having stupid moments — and says, “Here it is!” It makes our clumsy, awkward, forgetful, slow, or (yes, I’ll say it) dumb moments okay.

    “I admit that my curiosity and overthinking is sometimes inconvenient. It does (sometimes) undermine my happiness. It might (sometimes) complicate yours.

    But in general, I’m thankful to be the way I am. I think it makes my life richer — my thoughts more vivid, my emotions more intense, and my experiences more meaningful for it. I’m grateful my curiosity allows me to find meaning where it might have been otherwise overlooked. I’m grateful I can make meaning where there is none.”
    It makes your readers’ lives richer, too, with those meanings you thought to find: the Dumb Domme name and the BDSM Lexicon, for example.

    Yes, knowing your traits (some of which which may sometimes be benefits and sometimes be drawbacks) can depress you when you feel down and see everything as flaws. However, in addition to armoring yourself by being the first to admit “flaws,” you also have the advantage of being aware, which lets you compensate, if you really need.

    At least, that is what I tell myself about my flaws… er… traits. ;-)

    • Speaking of clumsy moments, that was supposed to be “an insecurity,” not “a security.”

    • Instead, to me, it highlights a security many of us have — of being “dumb” or at least having stupid moments — and says, “Here it is!” It makes our clumsy, awkward, forgetful, slow, or (yes, I’ll say it) dumb moments okay.

      My feeling is exactly this. I’ll point it out first so you aren’t inclined to. :)

      Yes, knowing your traits (some of which which may sometimes be benefits and sometimes be drawbacks) can depress you when you feel down and see everything as flaws. However, in addition to armoring yourself by being the first to admit “flaws,” you also have the advantage of being aware, which lets you compensate, if you really need.

      True! It lends itself to worry/anxiety, but it also allows me to work on my flaws, too. Good point!

      I find it weird that you seem to dislike the name “Dumb Domme” so much; I think it is brilliant and envy you the clever name!

      Thank you for this. :) I don’t mind “Dumb Domme” as the blog title, but I wish I would have chosen and actual human sounding pseudonym, like, Brunhilda, writer at Dumb Domme. Ok, not actually Brunhilda… ok, maybe. ;)

  4. I had a Dom that used to tell me “you think too much”. Fuck him! Thinking is what makes me the strong, smart, wise, intuitive person he adored. I am the whole package, and that means the ‘overthinking’ that comes with it. Does it land me in shit sometimes? Well, yeah. But it also prepares me for landing in clover and knowing what to do when I land in either.

    I choose better men now, BTW. They love the way I think.

    • Does it land me in shit sometimes? Well, yeah. But it also prepares me for landing in clover and knowing what to do when I land in either.

      I love this! I want to embroider this on a pillow!

      Here’s to aiming for the clover… :)

  5. I don’t know… I like over thinkers like you because it means I don’t HAVE too! LOL

    I can deep think a topic when it’s presented, but tend not to dissect myself on my own. So I love blogs like yours because you do the deep thinking and present the topic. Even a lot of my deep friendships are with over thinkers.

    • I can deep think a topic when it’s presented, but tend not to dissect myself on my own.

      I think this is the best approach. When you dissect the self, there are plenty of layers to deal with… you keep going and going and going until you’re left with nothing save for scraps. :)

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