When I Relinquish Control Of My Thoughts — And The Case Against Thinking

Anxiety, overanalysis, justifications. So many problems in my life stemmed from one source in particular. Perhaps I need to think not more, but less.

Food For Thought

A case against thinking probably sounds asinine. After all, why would I (as in, me) want to analyze less and risk making major mistakes? To not think is equivalent to admitting my unintelligence.

From the moment I entered school, the importance of thinking was ingrained in me. We were given deep topics to think about and provide critical insights into.

At least, in theory. In practice, not so much.

In school, one was given grades for assignments that dictated their future. These grades were determined by equally subjective people, who determined right and wrong.

And so when it came to thinking on these topics, I realize I often suppressed my true thoughts. When I was rebutted with a deduction, I was immediately convinced to follow the right answer.

There is no singular, nefarious actor in this situation, nor does this undermine the importance of my educational experiences. But I have to admit, some aspects weren’t so conducive to learning.

In all fairness, I’ve had some truly absurd notions in my earlier years. I had a phase where I thought I had answers to greater problems or disacknowledged them entirely, and overconfidently upheld those notions in arrogance.

I kinda want to travel back in time and kick myself. But what’s done is done, and I suppose those mistakes were an evolutionary process in formulating my current self.

However, there are external influences from that time I now realize were quite egregious — the way they manipulated me, my emotions, and my ideas.

As aforementioned, my notion of thinking is that it’s touted as good and intelligent. It’s also perceived as contrapositive — therefore, not thinking is bad and stupid. Q.E.D. ∎

I’ve noticed when disagreements arose, a common attribution was a lack of thinking. A failure to consider — incorrect, wrong, and deleterious. “Will you just think for once? Like actually, just listen.”

My beliefs and values were extraordinarily volatile. I jumped from polar extremes time and time again. I feared being wrong and losing the purity of so-called perfection.

But I now realize when I was told to “think,” that’s hardly what it actually meant. It meant to think in a certain way.

Amidst all the crazy ideas I had in earlier years, I felt off about some things happening in the world. I thought it was wrong — it didn’t seem beneficial, but reductive.

But it was touted as the ultimate solution. If I didn’t agree, then I was against all progress in the world and would face its wrath. So in fear, I forcedly convinced myself to accept it.

I read reasons why these ideas were actually good, why I was wrong, and ingraining them in my head. But it was a constant tug-of-war between what I wanted to believe and what I was required to think. Like a flickering light switch — “Oh, it’s actually like that — no wait, it really *isn’t*— but hold on...”

Fast forward a few years, a cultural pushback started, and the corruption and flaws were exposed. I wasn’t alone in thinking these particular ideas were shifty after all. It’s not that I had the objective truth. But I was certainly justified in my reasons for thinking what I thought.

Those same notions made me feel like a hellish person, back then. As I realized the absurdity of many of my former thoughts, every idea I had was relegated to that of a villain—one on the wrong side.

But it turns out, not everything I thought was just unfounded ignorance.

Then there were the wrongs I did commit — the unfortunate relics of the past. Sometimes, I made genuine mistakes. Other times, I was severely misguided, even radical.

And sometimes, I acted and thought in ways that even to me felt uncomfortable. Maybe it was because I knew I was wrong, though I can’t say for sure.

When I did so, I justified it with reason. This feels wrong, and maybe is wrong. But I’m doing it because of this and that. It’s only because of this I’m doing it — no, I have to do it.

“It can’t be helped. It’s not my fault.”

I chose to “think” my way through it all, using logical leaps to bypass thoughts of repercussions and feelings of discomfort, all to arrive at the answer I’d already sought since the beginning.

To cast aside the notion that maybe… I was actually very wrong. Because how could I be, when I’d thought it out like I was supposed to? Good ideas came from thinking, therefore, thinking meant good ideas. ∎

If I’d listened to my basic instincts, rather than thinking myself into a mindset of “relative morality,” maybe things would’ve turned out differently. But again, I can’t say for sure. I may have just done wrong at a later point, in a different scenario.

Maybe I would’ve never learned anything.

A Tone Down

I’ve encountered less melodramatic effects of so-called thinking as well. Having struggled with extreme anxiety for so long, I’m well aware of how helpful “thinking” has been for me.

The most basic actions are overanalyzed to death. If I wanted to send a message, I harrowed for hours.

What if I somehow, for no reason whatsoever, lost my mind and wrote an insult in this email? I told them to “please let me know,” won’t they think I’m demanding?

I pass by many people, and I think of how they’re judging me — how beneath everyone I am. I thought so much, but never of the possibility that everyone else was worrying too.

So I stressed to take care and not even breathe or swallow too loudly — to dare call attention to myself or disturb the peace with my existence. All as my mind was inundated with thoughts.

I wanted to begin activities and endeavors, but I had to think them out first. Because you can’t just go in blind and hope for the best, you have to be prepared.

At least, if one’s not a fool guaranteed to fail. So I was told.

I thought about all that could go wrong, pummeling my motivation and putting me in a choice paralysis. I thought that there was no way I could do what I wanted.

Everything I read told me how difficult it was, to need discipline and this other jargon. Because not everyone had it in them to succeed. I didn’t know any better, so I assumed I’d be exactly the one who didn’t.

As I kept achieving things I never thought I would, it felt ridiculously simple. Not everything was a cakewalk, as these years have felt strenuously long and torturous. The journey isn’t even close to over.

But it was possible to navigate and make progress. When I realized this, I thought in disbelief, “*This* is what all the scare tactics were about? This is why I was considered a worthless subhuman?”

No difficulty during my attempts ever surpassed the mental turmoil from the feelings of inadequacy I wallowed in — that I was convinced were actually meant to help me.

I always think of the worst-case scenario. My vision of a challenge is not a hindrance, but an insurmountable brick wall. And so when I was convinced to think, I only thought of futility — and wasted time away.

Nowadays, I am somewhat proud of what I’ve done and confident in my trajectory to get where I want in time. Not to toot my own horn too much, but it’s how I feel.

I thought about what ultimately didn’t matter. I was too late to start again, to try again, to do anything. I’m only 23, yet I think I’m too slow. But even if I was 63, it still wouldn’t matter.

None of this is worth thinking about. Instead, I need to just do what feels right. What works for me.

Thinking took perfectly valid solutions, and convoluted them to incorrectness. My answers were too easy and therefore not impressive enough. Or too simple to the point of being considered “cheating.”

It wasn’t the right way, like how real people did it.

I followed the “pros” methods to prove my legitimacy to myself. All the guides and hacks. This only ended in further difficulties, doing less, and knowing less.

Despite making more progress now and doing relatively better than in the past, I believe I actually think less. Hell, it feels like the last time I actively thought was in college.

Everything I do feels subconscious and automatic, based on my intuition molded from years of failures and setbacks. And I suppose that’s a good thing, as relinquishing external pressures was my goal.

Hyperfocus

The truth is, if I deeply pondered on every aspect of life, I would not be able to function. It would drive me absolutely insane — even more so than I already am, at least.

The human body, for instance. Do you ever just look at our biology and realize what bizarre creatures we are? Obviously, as I am a human, it feels normal.

But when I think about it…

When I stare at one’s hands and nails, it looks oddly… feline-like, if you flex the fingers. When I watch anime and the character’s mouths are any more detailed than a straight black line, it weirds me out. Lips remind me of those weird, shiny pitcher plants.

All the appendages we have wiggling around. What, like hinges and doors? How did that come to fruition? Oh, my skin pores are clogged. Pores?! That sounds like pulsating, jiggly holes. Trypophobia... ew…

There’s always these gross aliens portrayed in movies, vomiting liquids and whatnot. But are we really any different? Just thinking of the saliva and sweat and secretions… *squelch*.

What the heck are we?

Have you ever heard a word so many times it doesn’t sound like a word anymore? Semantic satiation. Just nonstop… caterpillar caterpillar caterpillar caterpillar caterpillar caterpillar caterpillar…

Cater pillar…? Caterpulur? Caburpulur? Is this even a language anymore?

I’m telling you, go put on a recording of someone talking, but listen to whenever they say an “S.” Listen to the hissy sound — the sibilance of that word.

As soon as I do it, it drives me freakin’ crazy.
I can’t unhear it — ”SSSIIII, SSSIII, SSSIII. *hiss*”

Or even worse, put on some headphones and play your favorite track. It’s possible the way the track was mixed, there’s hard-panned instruments, meaning they only come from one side of the stereo field.

A professional balances instruments on each side so it’s not discomforting. But if you focus hard on just the hi-hats, guitar, or whatever’s panned… it’s so uncomfortable because it’s only coming from the left or right ear.

Once again, I can’t unhear it. Drives me nuts.

Thinking more hasn’t always been good for me. More often than expected, it’s actually been detrimental. So-called thinking led me to wrong answers when I knew what worked already.

It caused me to doubt myself. It allowed me to make excuses, and pressured me to discard what comprised me, in favor of what was the “right” way of thought.

When I “think” out of obligation — through metathought, it’s often more an indication of how little I’m thinking at all.

And so I fall back into my usual trope of comparing a word in quotation marks with the true meaning I’ve discovered. The case of “thinking” versus simply thinking — concludes here.

Is thought necessarily an active endeavor? Is the absence of active, hyper-analytical musings truly indicative of a lack of judgment and consideration? And is the converse necessarily true either?

Everything I believe now, I once had to fight to believe. But when those notions became integrated, they faded into my subconscious. The knowledge I hold now, I hardly have to recall.

Therefore, acting by intuition doesn’t mean acting solely on emotions and irrationality, but rather on the truths discovered along one’s journey that no longer need self-convincing.

The choices I make, and ideas I hold, are rooted in reason — even if I don’t realize it myself.

I should not be so hasty to dismiss them.

That doesn’t mean I will never evolve or change my mind, or I won’t consider anything further. As demonstrated by my past, I am not infallible, nor are my notions.

I have no side. My values once focused on adherence, then refutation of the mainstream. Now, my thoughts are less anti-establishment, and more just grounded in my learned beliefs — my true self.

If I’m to fail or be wrong again, I’ll rectify my path in time. But I will do so through my own volition, even if I have to the hard way — by experiencing and discovering for myself.

For it’s time I stop thinking — and start believing.