Universos

Psychology

Overthinking

overthinking

Just thinkinn

Només pensant

💭

Who Else Gets Anxious When Overthinking Any Scenario?

Qui més s'ansia quan sobrepensa qualsevol escenari?

🧠 Me: I should stop overthinking..
🧠 Also me: But what if overthinking is how I survive?* 🙃

🧠 Jo: Haig de deixar de pensar massa..
🧠 També jo: Però què passa si pensar massa és com sobrevisc?* 🙃

No point. Or maybe too many points. Too many words just trapped. I keep coming back to the phrase "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?". If there are many thoughts but never verbalized, where do the thoughts go? [Into the soma. Through the soma]

Wonderings

No hi ha punt. O potser massa punts. Massa paraules simplement atrapades. Continuo tornant a la frase "Si un arbre cau al bosc i no hi ha ningú per sentir-lo, fa soroll?". Si hi ha molts pensaments però mai verbalitzats, on van a parar els pensaments? [Cap al soma. A través del soma]

Have you ever noticed how, while the sun is still up, you feel like you can do anything?
Everything seems possible, and hope feels within reach.
But when night falls, and the moon replaces the sun, everything changes.
Loneliness starts to speak, dark thoughts begin to grow, and suddenly every problem feels heavier than it did before.
It’s strange how the night can make us feel so lost.
But maybe it’s not because we are weak—maybe it’s because silence gives our hidden emotions a chance to be heard.
And just like every night eventually gives way to morning, this feeling too shall pass.

Some battles are invisible, they happen quietly, when the world is asleep and your mind is wide awake.

Has notat mai com, mentre el sol encara brilla, et sents capaç de fer qualsevol cosa?
Tot sembla possible, i l'esperança se sent a l'abast.
Però quan cau la nit, i la lluna substitueix el sol, tot canvia.
La solitud comença a parlar, els pensaments foscos comencen a créixer, i de sobte cada problema se sent més pesat del que ho feia abans.
És estrany com la nit pot fer-nos sentir tan perduts.
Però potser no és perquè som febles—potser és perquè el silenci dóna a les nostres emocions ocultes l'oportunitat de ser escoltades.
I així com cada nit finalment dóna pas al matí, aquest sentiment també passarà.

Algunes batalles són invisibles, es produeixen en silenci, quan el món dorm i la teva ment està ben despert.

For those who overthink everything like me, you should play Sudoku works as magic and could listen to music while playing, perfect

Per a aquells que sobrepensin tot com jo, hauríeu de jugar a Sudoku, funciona com màgia i podeu escoltar música mentre jugueu, perfecte

Sobrepensar

I needed this today, you need this today, everyone needs this today!

Avui ho necessitava, avui ho necessites, tothom ho necessita avui!

I mean....🤷🏻‍♀️😂

Vull dir....🤷🏻‍♀️😂

🤐🥴😮‍💨

The emptiness in my life made the sounds in my head louder, as much as i try to suppress them and direct my overthinking into something productive, the sad thoughts can be overwhelming, demotivating me, i even shed tears, I know that it means I'm a human being, but it's just harsh reality when you're on your own...

Sometimes i wonder if my lofe could've been better if I went back in time to change one thing, but I would lose a lot of things that I have now, yet again I think, perhaps I would be happier, or be more sadder...

I just need to keep my head up, move forward, hopefully life will open up a path or something where things ease up a bit, and it wouldn't be much empty ~

I wish no one would feel what I feel, find friends that value you, and appreciate them, don't chase after the wrong ones, I know it's not easy to spot the fake from real, but you will find a way if you pay attention closely...

Overwhelmed lately...

El buit a la meva vida ha fet que els sons al meu cap siguin més forts, tant com intento suprimir-los i dirigir el meu sobrepensament cap a alguna cosa productiva, els pensaments tristos poden ser aclaparadors, desmotivant-me, fins i tot ploro, sé que això significa que sóc un ésser humà, però és només la dura realitat quan estàs sol...

De vegades em pregunto si la meva vida podria haver estat millor si hagués tornat enrere en el temps per canviar una cosa, però perdria moltes coses que tinc ara, tot i així penso, potser seria més feliç, o més trist...

Només necessito mantenir el cap en alt, avançar, amb sort la vida obrirà un camí o alguna cosa on les coses es relaxin una mica, i no estaria tan buit ~

Desitjo que ningú no senti el que jo sento, troba amics que t'estimin i aprecia'ls, no persegueixis els equivocats, sé que no és fàcil distingir el fals del real, però trobaràs una manera si prestes atenció de prop...

Acomiadat últimament...

🦋Who am I? Good Question.. You decide I wouldn't my suggestions... How do I find the right direction... Who am I?🦋

Question Question Is The Name

🦋Qui sóc? Bona pregunta.. Tu decideixes, no m'agradaria les meves suggerències... Com trobo la direcció correcta... Qui sóc?🦋

Pregunta Pregunta És El Nom

Anyone felt like this as well randomly?

Algú s'ha sentit així de manera aleatòria?

😭

Em sap greu que sigui una persona que pensa massa 😭

Deep within a jungle lay a path.

It wasn't a long path. In fact, compared to the endless wilderness surrounding it, it was surprisingly short. Yet few people walked it willingly.

The path was narrow, overgrown with thorns and vines. Every step demanded something from those who walked it. Some sections required painful honesty. Others forced people to face old regrets, buried shame, unresolved trauma, difficult conversations, grief, guilt, or the people they had hurt and missed. It was not a path of distance, but of emotion.

At the end of the path stood something precious.

For some, it was peace.

For others, forgiveness.

For many, it was family.

The people waiting there could not walk the path for them. They could only wait and hope.

Most travellers entered the jungle knowing the path was there.

But not everyone chose to walk it the same way.

One man saw the path and sprinted.

He hated the pain, hated the uncertainty, hated feeling vulnerable. He wanted it over with. He attacked every obstacle with desperation and force, charging through thorn bushes, smashing through vines, refusing to rest.

He became obsessed with reaching the end.

The faster he ran, the more the jungle fought back.

By the time he reached his family, he had arrived quickly, but at a cost. His body was covered in cuts. His clothes were torn. He was exhausted, malnourished and barely standing.

He had faced his struggles, but he had never truly processed them. He had battled them.

Won, perhaps.

But not learned from them.

Another man looked at the same path and turned away.

"Not today," he said.

The jungle beyond seemed easier.

There were places to sit, people to drink with, distractions everywhere. There was always another party, another excuse, another way to avoid thinking about what waited on that path.

Days became months.

Months became years.

The jungle slowly became home.

The man built himself a camp amongst the trees. Whenever the path came to mind, he drowned the thought with noise, entertainment, habits and comforts.

Over time he stopped noticing how lost he had become.

The jungle wasn't hurting him all at once.

It was taking pieces of him slowly.

His health.

His time.

His purpose.

His confidence.

Eventually he looked into a stream and barely recognised the man staring back.

His hair was grey.

His body tired.

His spirit worn down.

The path was still there.

Exactly where it had always been.

Only now he had less strength to walk it.

When he finally reached the end, many years later, his family was still there.

But time had moved on.

The children he remembered were now adults.

Moments had been missed.

Memories never made.

The path had never been long.

Only delayed.

Then there was a third man.

When he saw the path, he accepted what it was.

He knew it would hurt.

He knew there would be tears, difficult conversations, setbacks and days when he wanted to quit.

So he began walking.

Not running.

Not hiding.

Walking.

When the thorns cut him, he learned from them.

When he grew tired, he rested.

When the sun broke through the trees, he stopped to appreciate it.

He laughed when he could.

Cried when he needed to.

Asked for help when he was struggling.

And each challenge made him stronger.

Not because the path became easier.

But because he became more capable.

The jungle was still difficult.

The emotions were still real.

The conversations were still uncomfortable.

Yet every step built resilience instead of taking it away.

When he finally reached the end, he stood tall.

Strong.

Healthy.

Grounded.

Not because he had avoided suffering, but because he had faced it properly.

His family embraced him.

And although the path had wounded him along the way, it had also shaped him.

The truth is that every person eventually notices the path.

Some rush through it and arrive broken.

Some spend years hiding from it and become lost in the jungle.

Others accept the challenge, walk it with patience, and allow it to transform them.

The path is rarely as long as we fear.

But the longer we avoid it, the larger the jungle becomes.

And no matter how far we wander, the path remains where it always was, waiting quietly for us to take the first step.

The Path (Story)

En profunditat d'una jungla hi havia un camí.

No era un camí llarg. De fet, comparat amb la immensitat salvatge que l'envoltava, era sorprenentment curt. Tanmateix, poques persones el caminaven de bon grat.

El camí era estret, cobert de punxes i vinyes. Cada pas exigia alguna cosa dels qui el caminaven. Algunes seccions requerien una honestedat dolorosa. Altres forçaven les persones a enfrontar-se a vells penediments, vergonya enterrada, trauma no resolt, converses difícils, dol, culpa, o les persones que havien ferit i echaven de menys. No era un camí de distància, sinó d'emoció.

Al final del camí hi havia alguna cosa preciosa.

Per a alguns, era la pau.

Per a altres, el perdó.

Per a molts, era la família.

Les persones que esperaven allà no podien caminar el camí per ells. Només podien esperar i esperar.

La majoria dels viatgers entraven a la jungla sabent que el camí hi era.

Però no tothom escollia caminar-lo de la mateixa manera.

Un home va veure el camí i va córrer.

Odiava el dolor, odiava la incertesa, odiava sentir-se vulnerable. Volia que s'acabés. Va atacar cada obstacle amb desesperació i força, carregant a través de les esbarzers, trencant vinyes, negant-se a descansar.

Es va obsessionar amb arribar al final.

Com més ràpid corria, més la jungla lluitava.

Quan va arribar a la seva família, havia arribat ràpidament, però a un cost. El seu cos estava cobert de talls. La seva roba estava destrossada. Estava esgotat, desnodrit i gairebé de peu.

Havia enfrontat les seves lluites, però mai les havia processat realment. Havia lluitat contra elles.

Guanyat, potser.

Però no n'havia après.

Un altre home va mirar el mateix camí i es va girar.

"Avui no," va dir.

La jungla més enllà semblava més fàcil.

Hi havia llocs per seure, persones amb qui beure, distraccions per tot arreu. Sempre hi havia una altra festa, una altra excusa, una altra manera d'evitar pensar en el que esperava en aquell camí.

Els dies es van convertir en mesos.

Els mesos es van convertir en anys.

La jungla lentament es va convertir en casa.

L'home es va construir un campament entre els arbres. Cada vegada que el camí venia a la seva ment, ofegava el pensament amb soroll, entreteniment, hàbits i comoditats.

Amb el temps va deixar de notar com de perdut s'havia convertit.

La jungla no l'estava ferint tot de cop.

Estava prenent peces d'ell lentament.

La seva salut.

El seu temps.

El seu propòsit.

La seva confiança.

Finalment, va mirar dins d'un riu i gairebé no va reconèixer l'home que el mirava.

El seu cabell era gris.

El seu cos cansat.

El seu esperit desgastat.

El camí encara hi era.

Exactament on sempre havia estat.

Només que ara tenia menys força per caminar-lo.

Quan finalment va arribar al final, molts anys després, la seva família encara hi era.

Però el temps havia avançat.

Els nens que recordava ara eren adults.

Moments s'havien perdut.

Records mai fets.

El camí mai havia estat llarg.

Només retardat.

Després hi havia un tercer home.

Quan va veure el camí, va acceptar el que era.

Sabia que faria mal.

Sabia que hi hauria llàgrimes, converses difícils, retrocessos i dies en què volia rendir-se.

Així que va començar a caminar.

No a córrer.

No a amagar-se.

A caminar.

Quan les punxes el van tallar, va aprendre d'elles.

Quan es va cansar, va descansar.

Quan el sol va trencar entre els arbres, es va aturar per apreciar-ho.

Es va riure quan va poder.

Va plorar quan ho va necessitar.

Va demanar ajuda quan estava lluitant.

I cada repte el feia més fort.

No perquè el camí es fes més fàcil.

Sinó perquè ell esdevenia més capaç.

La jungla seguia sent difícil.

Les emocions seguien sent reals

El Camí (Història)

Yeah so looks like sleeping, sudoku, whatever, are so temporary, you cannot stop overthink, it cannot let you sit down no doing anything about it, or you can just sit down waiting for it, oh godi hate it

Sí, així que sembla que dormir, fer sudoku, el que sigui, són tan temporals, no pots deixar de sobrepensar, no et deixa seure sense fer res al respecte, o simplement pots seure esperant-ho, oh, Déu, ho odio

I mean at random point of the day "Imagine one day you're getting DMs because suddenly you've become very well known amd famous for the things you create"...

Then I'd say "it will hard to know who is real and who isn't, I wish I could make connections before any of that happens, and if it happens, then I guess I'll set boundaries or something" and then I tell myself "you know what, let's not think, let's just focus on present, future is unknown, and what I do now will shape my future, keep doing what i do"

Yet still, that thought always come and go...

One of these thoughts that always go around in my head, constantly popping up...

Vull dir en un moment aleatori del dia "Imagina que un dia reps DMs perquè de sobte t'has convertit en molt conegut i famós per les coses que crees"...

Llavors diria "serà difícil saber qui és real i qui no, desitjo poder fer connexions abans que tot això passi, i si passa, llavors suposo que establiré límits o alguna cosa" i després em dic "saps què, no pensem, centrem-nos en el present, el futur és desconegut, i el que faig ara donarà forma al meu futur, segueix fent el que faig"

Encara així, aquesta pensada sempre ve i va...

Una d'aquestes pensades que sempre em passen pel cap, apareixent constantment...

I'm tired in a way sleep can't fix.
My body rests, but my mind never does.
Too many thoughts,too many memories,too many silent battles happening all at once.
People think I'm distant, but honestly........
I'm just mentally exhausted from carrying everything alone.

I'm Tired

Estic cansat d'una manera que el son no pot arreglar.
El meu cos descansa, però la meva ment mai ho fa.
 massa pensaments, massa records, massa batalles silencioses passant totes alhora.
La gent pensa que sóc distant, però sincerament........
Només estic mentalment esgotat de portar-ho tot sol.

Estic Cansat

At times I feel like my overthinking can be a double edge sword.

Blessing or curse at times

A vegades sento que la meva sobrepensament pot ser una espasa de doble tall.

Benedicció o maledicció a vegades

ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈᵖʰᵒⁿᵉˢ

Overthinking at its finest

Pensar en excés en el seu millor moment

We all have secret haven where we step the compulsive rumination and the anxiety. When your body will begin to realize oxytocin and you'll feel at peace and make you feel extraordinary.
And you will enjoy it because that feeling is on its way to extinction like all good things

Tots tenim un refugi secret on deixem de costat la rumia compulsiva i l'ansietat. Quan el teu cos comenci a produir oxitocina, et sentiràs en pau i et faràs sentir extraordinari.
I ho gaudiràs perquè aquesta sensació està en camí d'extinció com totes les coses bones.

Mine - was I right about selecting my career in Pcm ? In class 10

What is the dumbest thing you overthink about?

La meva - estava en el camí correcte en seleccionar la meva carrera en Pcm? A classe 10

Quina és la cosa més estúpida sobre la qual sobrepenses?

People say it's overthinking but i say we predict future more easily

La gent diu que és pensar massa, però jo dic que preveiem el futur més fàcilment

Sometimes you need to stop thinking and to learn to get out of your head and just let go

De vegades cal deixar de pensar i aprendre a sortir del teu cap i simplement deixar-ho anar

Even writing this post took a lot of thinking 😭

Tell me how to stop overthinking

Fins i tot escriure aquesta publicació ha requerit molt de pensament 😭

Digue'm com aturar el sobrepensament

What are some advices you have received on overthinking? What works and what doesn't?

Let us Roast and destroy some mainstream advises on overthinking.

Quins consells has rebut sobre la sobrepensament? Què funciona i què no?

Deixeu-nos rostir i destruir alguns consells convencionals sobre la sobrepensament.

Nobody is coming to save you, no friend or family is coming to save you from your overthinking
Don't think more more cause it will keep you low only and you can't do anything about it
I know it's sounds harsh, but we need to accept it

Control yourself

Ningú vindrà a salvar-te, cap amic ni família vindrà a salvar-te del teu sobrepensament
No pensis més perquè només et mantindrà a baix i no pots fer res al respecte
Sé que sona dur, però hem d'acceptar-ho

Controla't

I'm thinking about cutting my dread locs off

Locs

Estic pensant a tallar-me els locs d'angles.

😴😴

Positively overthinking

Pensant en positiu

When you got so much on your mind like: "LET ME SLEEP!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!"

Can't sleep

Quan tens tant al cap com: "DEIXA'M DORMIR!!! DEIXA'M EN PAU!!"

No puc dormir

I think too much and still act like someone who didn’t think at all 🙌

Crec massa i encara actuo com algú que no ha pensat gens 🙌

memes

"Are you mad at me?" - me, everyday to every person I interact with 😅🙃

"Estàs enfadat amb mi?" - jo, cada dia a cada persona amb qui interactuo 😅🙃

What if the person who could've made you the happiest in the world, who could've made you feel the luckiest everytime you woke up with them every morning, is someone whose profile you already swiped on?

You didn't like something on their profile.

They didn't have enough good photos.

They said "hi", but you ignored the message.

You swiped their profile away and, consequently, swiped away the beautiful love story, the lifetime of laughter and tears, and the chance to grow old with the love of your life.

...

Just wondering if I'm the only one who thinks about this. 🤣

What if you already came across your soulmate...

Què passaria si la persona que podria haver-te fet la més feliç del món, qui podria haver-te fet sentir el més afortunat cada vegada que et despertaves amb ella cada matí, és algú el perfil del qual ja has deslliscat?

No t'agradava alguna cosa del seu perfil.

No tenien prou bones fotos.

Van dir "hola", però vas ignorar el missatge.

Vas deslliscar el seu perfil i, conseqüentment, vas deslliscar la bonica història d'amor, una vida de rialles i llàgrimes, i l'oportunitat de fer-te gran amb l'amor de la teva vida.

...

Només em pregunto si sóc l'únic que pensa en això. 🤣

Què passaria si ja t'haguessis trobat amb la teva ànima bessona...

Una comunitat de Boo per conèixer gent interessada en Overthinking.

Comunitat Overthinking

Només pensant

💭

Qui més s'ansia quan sobrepensa qualsevol escenari?

🧠 Jo: Haig de deixar de pensar massa.. 🧠 També jo: Però què passa si pensar massa és com sobrevisc?* 🙃

Wonderings

Algunes batalles són invisibles, es produeixen en silenci, quan el món dorm i la teva ment està ben despert.

Amor ❤️

Potser estic pensant massa

Tinc una pregunta

Prova el meu millor..

Inquiet

El meu tatuatge d'ull 👁️