The Cluttered Mind



Mine is a cluttered mind, full of facts and theories, hopes and fears, logic and emotion. My thoughts swirl around so loudly in my head that I’m most surprised the noise doesn’t disturb those around me. My very sensitive husband claims that most times, he can hear the noise of my brain. My as-sensitive son concurs.



Many times I sit down to pull the thoughts out of my brain hoping that the process of writing will free me from thought, but instead the act of emptying my thoughts onto paper allows the other thoughts to rattle around more freely, generating more noise until my head wants to explode, so I have to stop writing.



Many times I sit down at the computer hoping that the act of typing will force my thoughts to flow in a disciplined manner but instead I find that I am distracted by the blinking of the cursor. It is like the lighthouse beacon, prodding my thoughts to find their way to the space where the blinker once was.



So I stop writing, not because I have nothing to say but because I have so much to say and it feels as thought the thoughts will never end. If I thought my thoughts were worth sharing I would not be so disturbed but instead I read what I wrote and I think, “What was I thinking?”



Why do I think the things I think? I wonder how many people think as often or as deeply as I do, but more often I wish I could one of those people who think less.



So I google “cluttered mind” and discover that there are many who too, think too much, but that does not make me feel less alone. I naturally align myself more with Albert Einstein than the tattoo artist from Florida, but chances are that we are all three alike. That takes my thoughts to an entirely different situation which reminds me of a show my spouse taped for me on Attention Deficit Disorder. The show was close to 2-hrs so naturally I didn’t watch it all (though the portions I saw where done quite well!) but I know it was an excellent piece of work for one of the noted experts was Dr. Edward Hallowell, a man whose writings helped me understand far more of myself than my previous therapists. [In fact, as soon as Dr. Hallowell was showcased I stopped watching the show to get his book off the shelf, which according to my spouse is evidence of my ADHDI, as if we really needed more evidence. He seemed so familiar that I researched my medical records and viola, there he was in 1the mid-90's, one of the many doctors over my lifetime who has diagnosed me with ADHDI, as if a diagnosis makes it more real. I am what I am.]



This is my cluttered mind. I start out thinking one thought and planning to go in one direction but I rarely end up at my destination. When I have something absolutely critical to think about I pull out my poster which has served me well for several decades. It reads, “FOCUS”.



I sat down to write about my emotions and why I haven’t been around much, but that was far too difficult a subject for today. I will save that for tomorrow, tomorrow.

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