stop obsessing

i obsess all the time. i over-analyze everything. why don’t i have more important things to take up the space in my head?

Ok, I have not done very well with this. I don’t spend a lot of time trying not to obsess cause…well, I’m too busy obsessing. I need to find a way to stop that thinking in its tracks. I need to come up with some motto or action that stops the process. The hardest thing is to get started. It just gets easier from there.
It’s just a laziness of mind that keeps me thinking in these tracks.

everything gives me a reason to over-think so goddamn it i quit. I my friend kissed and i’m dying to know if he’d do it again but I’ll only find out by waiting cause he isn’t particularly open.
another item of obsession, whether or not (at 22 years old) to get my ears pierced and renege on my childhood decision that “i don’t need to shove metal rods through my ears for men to find me beautiful” – Emily age 8. really. thats written down from when i was actually 8. any input on that one?
lets see… what else…
recently its mostly related to men which makes me a girl in the gross TigerBeat kind of way. oh well. ladys gotta get laid!

I guess this goal would go right along with another one of my “Be free of OCD”. It hurts so much to not be able to let go of all your mistakes and carry them around with you day after day, remembering them and beating your self up over them. I know that I will never be perfect and I will always to stupid things, but I still hate my self over everything that I have done. Just because some one looks at me funny or gets irratated with me for a bit, doesn’t mean that I am a evil person, but not matter how hard I try I just can’t convince my self over this. THere is that voice in the back of my head, telling my self other wise.
But what I hate most about this problem, is watching other people suffer from it. I remember last year at work I knew some one who had OCD. He told me that one time he got so deppressed, that he stopped eating, drinking, and wouldn’t even go to the bathroom, and that his parents had to make him do everything. Than to see him standing infront of me, telling me his story, made me want to give him the worlds biggest hug for overcoming it. It was amazing that he could go through somthing like that, and than still be alive and smiling. He diserved so much in life, more than just the pain that he was forcing him self to carry day after day. People would pick on him at work, and spread sick rumors about him, he never did anything to harm any body. All he was trying to do was live. People just didn’t want to let him do that. He would smile and tell me the story of how one of the workers tried to punch him, and act like it was nothing major. But I could see the hurt in his eyes that he was trying to hide. But he always spoke about how much he hated OCD and wanted to Devil to suffer for everything that he had to go through. People shouldn’t have to live with this obssesive problem of not forgiving them selves. People shouldn’t have to loose their lives over it. I wish that we could all just forgive our selves.

I need to stop obsessing about other peoples’ opinions of me. I catalogue peoples’ reactions and gauge whether or not they like me based on it. It’s sad and lame and is a waste of energy. I will spend less time worrying about how other people are (or more accurately, aren’t) judging me.

that everything is my fault. Obsession is the belief that if I “do this” or “do that,” perhaps if I held my mouth just the right way or said the proper thing; I can control all possible outcomes. Guss what? it just ain’t true. I am not responsible for anyone’s actions other than my own, and to let the truth be known I do not want responsibility of making someone else’s discussions. As I said before, “there is a God and I am not Him, the world makes sense, but not to me”

is to do it. Not to just play around with it, not to try and make the world work the way I want it too, but to accept things as they are and be happy with that. I dropped my Facebook account. If I do not wish to be burned, I shoud not play with fire.

at the invitation of one of my friends. A few days later I got an invitation to be “old what’s-her-name’s” friend. It was a total surprise to me, but I sent her a message asking how she has been doing for the last few years, since I had last contact with her. I also gave her a quick rundown on what my wife and I have been doing. I received no reply. This is just too weird, I don’t need to be doing this, but I do it anyway. I once heard that one definition of insanity was doing the same thing and expecting different results. BTW: this happened with the full knowledge of my wife.

Saturday night and I am obsessing over her. I talk to her and talk to her and talk to her, knowing that nothing will come of it, ever. Knowing that to her I am just a, well…I can’t bring myself to say it.
Why can’t it be other than the way it is?

Sigh.