Overthinking

(Today’s blog post is part of the Blogging From A to Z Challenge during which writers all over the world blog each day in April based on a corresponding letter of the alphabet.  These are my personal stories about living with Trigeminal Neuralgia, the most painful diagnosis known to man.)

I’m an overthinker.  I like to look at situations from all angles to figure how many ways things can go wrong.  It’s a blessing and a curse.  Overthinking may have served me well professionally, but personally, not so much.  I occasionally throw myself into a spiral of obsession about really stupid things like why my black stove is such a pain to keep clean. (But seriously, how do you get rid of the streaks?) And when I was first put on Tegretrol (the first TN drug I tried), my overthinking obsessiveness kicked into high gear.  And then I kicked the Tregetrol.

But here’s something interesting…I never spend a lot of time overthinking my TN.  I’ve never asked “Why did this happen to me?”  I wonder how it happened in terms of a root cause, but never “Why me.”

I know a lot of people view events in their life as “God’s Plan” and I mean no disrespect to anyone who finds comfort in that philosophy (or theology, I suppose).  But I don’t think God had anything to do with it.  It’s not like He’s up there in Heaven holding a giant remote control with channels set for every human.  I doubt He’s thinking, “Let’s see what’s going on with ol’ Sal down there. Maybe we can shake things up a bit.”  Nor do I believe it is in anyway punitive or penance for anything I’ve done.  The God I believe in doesn’t do stuff like that.

I just think, “It is what it is” and deal with it.  And the “why” is far less important to me than the “how did this happen” and “what can I do about it”.  Those are the questions I’d like to answer, although the solutions aren’t so easy to derive. And I’ve decided it’s healthier to let those answers unfold to me rather than trying to think of all the scenarios.

In the meantime, I’m gonna get the Windex and clean my stove.