Why Do I Do This To Myself?

Sometimes my mind is my own worst enemy. I do a lot of thinking. All the time. We all do that, it's how we function. But with me it's real bad. You see, at any given time there are thousands of different thoughts, ideas, tidbits of information circulating inside my head. Each one is like a little, individual dot floating around. Stupid me is always running around trying to draw lines to connect these dots. Who knows, maybe I have some form of OCD. Now, most of the time it's not that bad but every once in a while I go into overdrive. When that happens it's like a roller coaster ride or flying through the air at supersonic speeds. I'm using these analogies because I don't really know how to describe what's going on. It's a time of highs and lows, energy and exhaustion. Eventually, I come down from the ride and everything goes back to "normal". It can last for weeks though. I'm going through one of those periods right now. I don't know when it started and I don't know when it will die down so please be patient with me.

To an outsider, it's not really noticeable. I seem normal. If you've known me for a long time though you will have learned to pick up on the signs. And like a siren wailing a warning of an impending tornado, friends and family have learned to take cover and hope they're not in the path of the tornado. The signs are subtle. There will be days when I'm very quiet but look agitated. I get restless, pacing around the house, going out for drives to no where, finding a coffee shop or truck stop and getting a cup of coffee then just sitting there observing and thinking. There are frequent trips to the bookstore and hours spent reading, everything from articles to books to blogs. I don't get much sleep during these times because as tired as I get, when I lay down and close my eyes my mind is still racing. God forbid you are the one to accidentally call me during one of these episodes or even worse, answer the phone when I call you. My friend Joe made that mistake the other night. It went something like this:

Phone rings
Me: "Hello, what's up?"
Joe: "Hey, not much. What's up with you?"
Me: "Nothing really."
Joe: "What are you doing?"
Me:" Just sitting here in the parking lot of Dunkin Donuts thinking."
Joe: "What are you thinking about?" (Note to readers, this is a big mistake)
Me: "I don't know. A lot of things. I'm kind of all over the place."
Joe: Knowing chuckle sound
Me: "How's Lisa and the kids?"
Joe tells me something about his wife and kids.
Me: " That's funny. You know, I was just thinking about back when we had the band. Remember how we came up with songs. I wonder why..."

An hour or two later either the cell phone battery has gone dead or we realize it's late and say our goodbyes. We also have that moment at the end of the conversation where one of us asks how we got on the last topic we were talking about. This is because each topic has segued into the other and though they are different subjects, each are interconnected.

So what is this post really about? Well, like I said, I'm going through one of these episodes right now. This morning I woke up, made a pot of coffee and started the process all over again. So far I have sat outside on the steps thinking about what I thought about yesterday, expanding on my thoughts. I have gone on the Internet and checked email, checked Facebook to see that everyone is just posting nothing interesting and then started surfing news sites and such. And that's the problem. See, I came across this. It's a list of five books about the working world. Most of you will probably think " So What? They sound boring". And at a certain time I would probably agree with you. But not now. I read the little synopsis for each one and the light bulbs started firing off in my head. "Whoa, I need to read these. There are themes in these books that tie into what I'm currently thinking about". Here's the problem; Remember how I mentioned recently that I started reading "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire"? It's been hard to get into reading because it requires concentration. That's hard to do when your mind is racing all over the place. It's also hard to do when you have a roommate who watches TV or talks loud on the phone. And now, NOW I have these five books calling to me. Tempting me and pulling me away from Mr. Gibbon's tedious three volume compilation of thirteen hundred years of history.

I feel like a young man who has decided to take the plunge and commit to the challenge of marriage who then has 5 other women tempting him away. OK, I know, that's a little melodramatic. My point is why am I like this? In writing this post I think I have come up with a term to describe myself. I am a mental masochist. I drive myself crazy with torturous thinking and thinking and yet somehow derive enjoyment from doing so. Now that I have determined what I am, a mental masochist, I am asking myself "But why? Why am I like this? How did I get to be this way?" Dear readers, do you see what's happening? It's starting all over again, thinking and thinking and thinking. Somebody, PLEASE, make it stop. I'm begging you.