I don't know if you know this about me...I actually have a superhero identity. No, I cannot read people's minds (thank goodness), nor do I have super-hero strength (Although, in my younger days, I was known to have a stomach of steel...not because of my rock-hard abs, because I could eat a lot of disgusting crap and not get sick). What I DO have the ability to do is over-think a situation until it's the end-all-be-all of my life, to the point where that situation, as meaningless as it may be, I end up feeling will define me. As a person. My entire life. As futile as it may be, I can over-anlayze the crap out of something until I hate everything and everyone (well, maybe not everyone, especially not you, my new best friend who reads my blog). I should have a catchy superhero title like "Rumination Chick!" or "Anxiety Girl!". Seriously, it's bad. This is one reason why free time is my enemy. Sure, I'll bitch about how I have no time to myself...after having enrolling in another graduate level course, as well as two dance classes, decide to teach Zumba, take on the cluster lead history teacher position in the county, start a blog, buy 4 new books to read, oh, and decide I want to be a photographer (more info about how I suck at this on a future blog). Free time = Ruminating. I learned this word from my therapist. Yeah, I've been to therapy, I'm not ashamed. Sit on a plush couch in a tranquil room and talk about myself for an hour with a guarantee of no judgement from someone who's probably seen crazier than me? Sign me up, dude! I've always been an over-thinker. Scene: Nine-year old Nicole, crying at the dining room table, because she KNEW a grape was too big to accurately represent Mercury in her fruit solar system. She knew it had to be something smaller to be in proportion, like a blueberry, or a coffee bean. "Why don't you use one of the styrofoam balls that we bought?" says loving, and every-so-patient mother. "Because it all has to be fruit!!!! I can't mix the fruit with the styrofoam!!!!! THAT'S STUPID!!!!!!!!!!". End scene. I can guarantee I will have a daughter just like myself. Damn Kharma.
It was definitely gymnastics that made me this way, no doubt in my mind. Put a little girl in a leotard and have her stand by herself on a 4 inch wide long piece of wood, then flip in the air, and land back on it. Don't wobble! Be perfect! Everyone is watching! And if you're not perfect, the girl after you will be. And you'll lose. Remember No Fear shirts? The little no fear emblem on the front and the inspirational saying on the back? Well, I had the one that said "Second Place is the First Loser". Because it is. I then spent a number of years NOT thinking. I mean REALLY REALLY not thinking. I'll leave out the sordid details of volatile relationships and dangerous experimentation, and just thank my lucky starts I am still here to think back and laugh at how invincible I thought I was. Enter court-mandated therapy. JUST KIDDING! Enter therapy highly recommended by a very good friend. Literally, this was my reaction once I realized what a little shit I was being: Wow, I can control my life? You mean, THINKING about my decisions will lend me the opportunity to end up where I want to be? Well, leave it to me to overcompensate. I began to analyze every.single.decision I would ever make, because I thought I was too smart not to! I learned how to control my life, I was SMART, and POWERFUL...both of which can also make you slightly delusional. Stay tuned to learn more of my delusions as I attempt to not paralyze myself with indecision and over-analysis on a daily basis.
Ruminator Girl - Out!
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