The Mental Load of Overthinking
For me, overthinking often masquerades as a unavoidable part of life. It always seems to be in the background of life—harmless commentary, until it isn’t. For many of us, the habit of mentally dissecting every decision, replaying every conversation, and preemptively bracing for imagined disasters quietly consumes hours of our day. Overthinking doesn’t announce itself with urgency. It sneaks in, settles down, and makes itself at home.
I know this because, for years, I considered overthinking a personality trait—an inevitable part of who I was. It felt productive, even responsible, as if scrutinising every detail was a badge of honour. But the truth is, overthinking doesn’t resolve problems. It paralyses us in analysis, drowning out intuition and clarity.
In recent months, I’ve started to question the role overthinking has played in my life. The questions weren’t grandiose, just quietly probing: Why does every minor decision feel so weighty? Why do I replay conversations long after they’ve ended? The answers led me back to mindfulness, a practice used to observe the chatter without judgement.
The Illusion of Control
At its core, overthinking is about control—the illusion of it, anyway. We tell ourselves that if we just think hard enough, we can anticipate every outcome, avoid every mistake, and prepare for every eventuality. But this is a myth. Life doesn’t adhere to our mental blueprints. It unfolds, messy and unpredictable, regardless of how much we plan.
The realisation that I can’t think my way into certainty was both sobering and liberating. It nudged me toward mindfulness, a practice rooted in presence rather than prediction.
The Power of Pause
Mindfulness begins with a pause. When I feel the familiar churn of overthinking—a mental hamster wheel spinning at full speed—I pause and breathe. It’s a simple act, almost too simple, but it works. Breathing deeply isn’t about suppressing thoughts; it’s about anchoring myself in the present.
From there, I try to observe my thoughts without judgment. This is the hard part. Overthinking often comes with a side of self-criticism: Why didn’t I handle that better? Why didn’t I see that coming? Learning to observe these thoughts without engaging them—like watching clouds drift across the sky—has been a revelation.
The Quiet Revolution of Self-Compassion
Perhaps the most unexpected discovery on this journey has been self-compassion. Overthinking thrives on the belief that we must get everything right, that mistakes are evidence of inadequacy. But the truth is far gentler: mistakes are inevitable, and they are not the sum of who we are.
Replacing self-criticism with self-compassion is no small feat, but it’s a practice worth pursuing. It doesn’t mean absolving ourselves of responsibility. It means acknowledging that we are human, flawed and resilient in equal measure.
The Long View
Overthinking tends to telescope our focus, zooming in on the tiniest of moments. Mindfulness, by contrast, widens the lens. It reminds me that today’s worries are often tomorrow’s footnotes. The decisions I agonise over rarely have the outsized consequences I imagine.
As I reflect on my tendency to overthink, I see it for what it is: a thief of time and peace. But I also see the potential for change. Mindfulness isn’t about banishing overthinking; it’s about reclaiming the present. It helps to think that life isn’t meant to be figured out; it’s meant to be lived.
