Thoughts On Overthinking, Attachment, and Being Too In Your Head

In this episode, I talk about what overthinking actually looks like in real life. I go from dating apps and work emails to friendships and late night spirals. I unpack how attachment, nervous system responses, and looping thoughts all feed into being “too in your head,” and share a few tools I’m using to come back to the present, take small actions, and stop letting every thought turn into a whole story. Music by DayFox. 

Chapters

• 0:45 Big Feelings And Early Lessons
• 4:31 Naming Overthinking And Storytelling
• 5:05 The Dating App Spiral
• 9:59 Hijacked Presence And Phone Boundaries
• 10:55 Attachment Triggers And Self-Regulation
• 14:30 Work Emails And The Illusion Of Control
• 17:00 Seeking Approval And Social Hypervigilance
• 21:20 Catching The Spiral In Real Time
• 23:50 The What If Olympics And Reframing
• 27:10 Past Replays, Forgiveness, And Reset
• 30:30 Processing Vs Looping And Taking Action
• 33:10 Training The Brain Toward Good Outcomes

Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 0:45

What's up, my friends? Welcome back to Dominations. I'm your host, Donovan, and here at Dominations we're all about moving through the mess and the meaning with intention. Because when we do that, we see ourselves a little clearer each time we look in the mirror. So thanks for showing up today. Not for me, but for yourself. You know, I've always been someone with some pretty big emotions. Ever since I was a little kid. There'd be times when five or six year old Donovan would just be in this tornado of feelings. Of course, I didn't have a grasp on the full spectrum of emotions at that age, but I was aware enough to know that some of them I did like feeling, but others I didn't. And the ones I didn't like feeling, since I didn't have a name for them, I just called it not feeling good or feeling sick. And so I'd walk up to my mom and I'd tell her I didn't feel good. And she'd ask me what was wrong, and she'd check my forehead and my stomach for a fever or look for any other symptoms. Mind you, sometimes I actually was sick. I wasn't just making it up. I actually had a fever or was coming down with something. And yes, sometimes I just didn't want to go to school for whatever reason and was making it up. But some other times were genuinely because I was feeling off mentally or emotionally. And five-year-old me could only convey that in so many words, right? But for the times when I showed no symptoms and nothing really pointed to me truly being sick, my mom would tell me, Don't think about it. She was doing what so many caregivers do, nudging me forward. What her and I didn't know at the time, though, was that my little body and developing mind were carrying more than I had words for. And I remember little me being like, don't think about it. How can I not? This bad feeling is all I've been thinking about since I woke up this morning. To not think about something has always been so crazy to me. Like, how do people just shut off their brain like that? Especially when big emotions or your heart or spirit feel like they're on the table. I don't know, but that's definitely where a lot of my resilience was built. From my mom keeping me moving forward like that. But if I'm being honest, the thinking about it never stopped.

SPEAKER_01: 3:49

Just like I've always felt things, I've always thought about things. I can be an overthinker.

SPEAKER_00: 3:59

Shocker, right? But seriously, every single detail, situation, feeling, emotion, and word, all of it, I think about it. The only difference now is that adult me is more acquainted with the full spectrum of emotions and is trying to practice this whole self-awareness thing. And that's teaching me to notice when my overthinking brain is just telling a story and not really reporting on reality. For instance, when I text a friend or someone important to me and they don't immediately respond, instead of they're probably busy, I'll hear from them when I hear from them, or just simply not thinking about it, my brain jumps straight to they must be mad at me. Or I said something wrong. That's what I mean by storytelling, taking one small moment and turning it into a whole explanation about what it means about me, them, or the future. This is pretty embarrassing, but I remember one time back in my early to mid-20s being out to lunch with a friend, and we were catching up and laughing and just actually feeling really present in the moment. You know, it was like one of those genuine, easy kind of hangouts. And then all of a sudden, my phone lights up with a notification. And it was from a dating app. And of course, I was curious. So in the middle of the conversation, I took my phone out, opened the message, and read it. It was short, straight to the point, just one line. What are you into? And my palms instantly got sweaty. As if the notification itself wasn't enough. That question pulled me so far away from the moment with my friend and straight into overthinking. I didn't get many hits on dating apps, so this felt like my big moment. Plus, the message came from someone who looked exactly like someone I'd already imagined coming along and sweeping me off my feet, right? So, of course, I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to stand out. I wanted to be liked. And that's when my brain started doing the most. I thought, okay, what's the most interesting thing about me? What makes me sound exciting and cool and makes me sound like I'm worth a reply? And so I just started listing everything. I said I was into working out, I was into running, I traveled all the time, which was a stretch because I really just road trip to Dallas like once or twice a year. And I said I was into books, hoping it would make me sound smart, maybe. And I was a movie buff. That'd give us plenty to talk about right there. And I was into every genre of music. So we definitely have car karaoke sessions together. Basically, I made myself sound like the main character of whatever movie my mind was already playing in my head. By the time I finished, I had typed out this full paragraph. Not a text, a paragraph, like a full-on essay, right? Think about my poor friend. She probably felt so neglected. Like, imagine the amount of time it took me to type that out and how much I had to be looking at my screen and not her. I was absolutely no longer present the way I was when we first met up. I was officially lost in the sauce. And then, on top of that, I spent another 10 minutes wondering if the message was even good enough to hit send. And when I finally did hit send, I still sat there, distracted, questioning everything. And then nothing. They never replied, just straight silence. And if I wasn't present before, the silence really sent me spiraling off into the abyss. I replayed it all in my head. All that, and I'm still not good enough. I'll never find anyone, no one will ever love me. I'll be alone forever. I can't even tell you how long it took that rejection to wear off and the story slash movie in my mind to end, and for me to come back to the present moment. I don't even know how long it took, but when I finally made it back, and we finished eating and we got up to leave, I realized. Oh that's not what they meant by what are you into. It immediately felt like all that mental spiraling and spinning off into the abyss was for nothing. We weren't even talking about the same thing. But I think the hardest realization then and today was that once that message came through, I didn't remember a single thing about the rest of that lunch with my friend. Not what we ate, hardly what we talked about, and not even how I felt before the notification came in. I was completely gone, lost inside my own head, living out stories that hadn't even happened yet. And that's what overthinking does. It literally hijacks your reality. It takes up so much space that it feels like nothing else in the world can exist. I know we roll our eyes when someone tells us, you're always on that damn phone. But in my case it was true. I was more invested in that one message and especially the story my brain was spinning about it, than the food right in front of me and the person I was actually with. That should have been my cue to put the phone down. Face down. Not because putting your phone face down is some magic cure for overthinking, but because it's a line in the sand. It would have been me admitting, okay, my brain has left the room and giving myself a way to come back to it. Overthinking can become this big, visceral, overtaking response that it barely feels like you have a choice in it. And that's why I'm always quick to recommend any attachment theory book, starting with Attached by Amir Levine, I think it is, and Rachel Heller. Not because this is some lecture hall and I'm saying attachment theory is the end-all-be-all for overthinking, but because I really do believe that if you tend to fall more on the anxious or avoidant sides of the spectrum, your brain is going to be even quicker to overthink and read into any pause or any tone shift or any kind of silence. It's not that you're being dramatic, it's that your nervous system is doing the only thing it learned to do in situations like that, like mine was doing. And that's why self-regulation matters so much here. It doesn't fix your attachment style by any means, but it gives your mind and body another way to respond. It takes practice for sure, but once you understand those triggers a little better, you'll be able to see a way through the noise instead of just sitting in it, waiting for it to pass. Engage in conversation, and actually taste my food. Stop living in hypotheticals, be present, not in my head. Because no message and no stranger or any situation or thing outside of ourselves can give us something we can't already give ourselves. And if I would have realized that then, I wouldn't have handed so much of my power to something completely outside of my control. It's everywhere. Believe it or not, it's at work too. Because surprise, surprise, I haven't just spent 10 minutes crafting a paragraph for a text. I've done that with work emails too. And no, that's not because I'm some harebrained crazy psycho person. I don't overthink because I want to, okay? I overthink because I care. I care how my email comes across. I care about looking professional. And it's not only because I care. There's a part of me that only knows to respond that way. A part of me that believes overthinking keeps me prepared for any possible outcome. So I'm not caught off guard by anything. But the part I miss, like the biggest part, actually, is that you can't overthink your way into control. You can't control how people see, feel, or think. You can't control how they'll read your email or what kind of day they're having when they open it. And the same goes for the text or the comment or the outfit or the post or the thing you've already rewritten 10 times in your head. So why give that so much power? Does an email need to make sense? Does it need to be professional and get the job done? Absolutely. Yes, I believe that. But do I need to spend 30 minutes trying to account for every possible outcome and how to manage each one of those? Yeah, probably not. That's just my brain trying to control how things turn out and how people see me. And it might feel like preparation or protection, but it doesn't actually change anyone's reaction. It just drains me before anything even happens. And I can explain that logically, but when I'm in it, it doesn't always feel that way. And that's the part I'm learning to catch in real time. So when I catch myself wasting too much thought on an email or a message, I try to stop and be completely honest with myself. Am I stressing about the effort I'm putting in, or is it actually the reaction I want from the person on the other end that I'm caught up on? If it's my effort, I tweak it, clean it up, do what I need to do. But if it's someone else's reaction, that's my cue to hit send and just let it be. My part is what I put into it. What they do with it is on them. But I completely understand that what they do with it is on them, but it doesn't go for absolutely everyone. Right? There are people in my life, and probably in yours too, whose opinion means a lot. But that still doesn't mean anyone else's reaction is mine to manage. I spent a good chunk of my life trying to, and it straight burned me out. It got into my nervous system and my presence and even how I saw myself around these people. I remember way too many times where I'd go over to a best friend's house and walk in already overthinking. I'd be questioning if I'm being a burden right now. Do they really want me here, or are they just being nice? And then I'd overanalyze their tone and their body language, and every little pause, just trying to read whether I was being too much or not enough. I bet you're probably having no trouble guessing which side of the attachment spectrum I fall on. And honestly, the friends in those rooms probably clocked it too right away. I thought it was all just in my head, but it was written all over my face and my body. My shoulders would tense up and my jaw would be clenched. I clearly looked uncomfortable, like I was bracing for a reaction that hadn't even happened yet. I was just putting too much thought into it. If I had something I wanted to vent about or feelings I wanted to talk through, I'd be like, let me scan the room first and then see. Instead of just letting myself be the way I would let any of them be with me. And if it was something I'd already vented about before, uh that just made it worse. I'd decide what they were going to think of me before I even opened my mouth about it. So I just wouldn't say anything. I'd spend most of our time together being too quiet with my stomach in knots for no reason. I lost too many moments like that. Meanwhile, the actual evidence was right in front of me. Like, they invited me over. They kept showing up as my friend. They were there when I needed them. And they were glad I was there. I just, for whatever reason, couldn't feel it in certain moments because my brain was too busy running quality control on every Reaction. That whole something feels off, and I'm assuming the worst, even though the facts say otherwise, thing. Wasn't just in friendships, though, it showed up in relationships too. In friendships, nothing was actually wrong, but my brain was convinced something had to be. But in relationships, it went a step further. If any little thing felt off, my whole system flipped into hypervigilance. My heart would be racing at midnight, my mind would be writing fanfiction about what they really meant. And my body would be paying for all of it. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, couldn't focus on anything else at all. I lost too much time to my thoughts. If I'm gonna lose time, I'd rather lose it because I was immersed in my life, not trapped in my head or my body. So now I'm just trying to check myself before I wreck myself. Are my shoulders up by my ears? Is my chest tight? Have I been staring at the ceiling for an hour instead of sleeping? If their answer is yes, that's my cue to remind myself what's actually true right now. Not just what my fear is screaming at me. So my body can finally relax. I tell myself to look at proof that I actually have, not the story I'm making up just so my attachment patterns feel right. So if you're listening to all of this and you're like, okay, Donovan, cool, I see myself in some of this, but what do I actually do when my brain is running laps? Well, what I'm not gonna tell you is just stop overthinking. Because if it were that simple, we wouldn't be here. Hell, if it were that simple, I wouldn't be here. I'd be selling a three-word course called Just Stop Overthinking and selling it at a price of like$999, and we'd all be done by now. But what I will tell you is this if you catch your mind building a whole story that's way bigger than what's actually happening in front of you, like one small moment suddenly turned into I'm too much, or they're pulling away, that's your cue. Nothing huge has actually happened yet, but your brain is already filling in all the blanks and racing to the worst case ending. That's not just overthinking, that's your attachment system running the show, trying to protect you from being blindsided, dropped, or left behind, even in moments where that isn't actually happening. For me, when that happens, I started naming it. I started calling it competing in the what if Olympics. If I notice I'm back on that podium again, that's my sign to pause, not to text, not to overexplain, not to chase anyone, and just ask myself, what do I actually know right now? And what parts am I guessing or trying to fill in the blanks on?

SPEAKER_01: 23:56

Am I really in danger or am I just scared?

SPEAKER_00: 24:02

The truth is, even if someone does pull away or say no, overthinking still can't protect me from that. Rejection stings, yes, but it's not proof that I'm too much or not enough. It's just redirection, right? Nine times out of ten, the story I've written is still way bigger than the facts I actually have. And I don't need to overthink my way into safety when the world isn't actually ending. I'm not actually under attack, even if something doesn't work out the way I hoped it would. There's also the kind of overthinking that doesn't even bother with the future and just keeps replaying the past. I've had nights where I'll lie there, rerunning the same conversation on a loop, rewriting what I should have said, trying to manage an interaction that's already over. I'm not gonna lie, I had to force myself not to fall into that trap or pattern when I was recalling that dating app story. And at some point I had to make a deal with myself. Once I've left the room, I don't get to keep editing the scene in my head. It's done. If there's something I actually need to fix or that I can apologize for or clarify once, then I'll do it. But after that, it's done. I don't get to keep punishing myself for it all night. And if you notice you're still replaying a moment like that long after it's over, that's not you being thorough. That's you turning a single scene into your whole story, and you just need to forgive yourself. Write it down once if you need to. You know, I'm a big advocate for the journaling, so write it down if you need to, and then let the replay stop there. And if your body tenses up before you even know what's wrong, that's the overthinking taking over your nervous system. For me, it feels like this low-level kind of buzzing under my skin, like I can be there, nodding along to whatever conversation I'm having or whatever's going on, but inside I'm replaying the last thing I said and grading myself on actions or anything. And most of the time, there's no dramatic situation unfolding. The people in front of me are just talking, eating, laughing, and living. And it's just my own mind turning on me. And I've already said living is something not worth missing out on anymore. So make it this physical thing. Drop your shoulders, feel your feet on the ground, take a breath, and take your power back in the most simplest of ways.

SPEAKER_01: 27:22

Let it be like hitting a full body reset button. And lastly, learn to notice the I'm just processing trap.

SPEAKER_00: 27:34

There's real processing where the thinking leads you to a decision or a next step. And then there's looping where you're saying the same thing over and over with slightly different details, not getting anywhere. How do I know this? I've got a PhD in looping, okay? A quick way, though, that I learned to tell the difference is to ask: is this thought leading me anywhere new? If the answer is yes, you're understanding yourself better or getting clearer on what you want to do. That's the good stuff. So keep going. But do be wary of this tool, though. I've had times where I felt like I was processing and really was just explaining the same hurt to myself 20 different ways, hoping it would sting less and never actually doing anything different. And if the answer is no to the thought leading you somewhere new, then it's just the same worry, colored in a different shade, and that's your sign that you absolutely don't need more thinking at all. You either need a small action or a clean break. The more you rehearse every possible outcome, the less present you are for the one that's actually happening.

SPEAKER_01: 28:57

At some point, we have to stop thinking about our lives and actually step into them.

SPEAKER_00: 29:07

And if you start taking those steps and your brain is like, nope, still gonna think and then think some more, I'm still gonna run away with a story. Remember, it doesn't always have to be the worst one. Start training it to think about the good outcomes too. If it's gonna overthink, might as well be on good things, right? What if this text, this invite, this slow season, this moment in your life isn't a setup for disaster, but something that might actually be good for you, even if it doesn't look like it yet. What if life is actually better on the other side of this? And it's not over, and it's just beginning. What if just once you let yourself hang on to one outcome where things turn out in your favor? I'll be 100% with you as I sit here exploring all this. Having had these tools in my arsenal for a little bit now, I still spiral sometimes. I'll catch myself replaying memories like that dating app message, or building this airtight case for why an email or text needs to be perfect. And my brain says, see, this is why you overthink. It's keeping you safe, it's protecting you from mistakes, embarrassment, and from that feeling of being left, rejected, or being too much for people. But then I challenge it. I stop and ask, mistakes according to who? The people out here who are also stumbling through their lives, making their own mistakes, overthinking their own texts and emails, and next moves in life. Nobody's perfect. Nobody's getting it right all the time. And if I can practice more self-awareness in those overthinking moments, actually pause and remind myself the only moment that matters is this one right here, right now. I'm better off.

SPEAKER_01: 31:32

That's what I'm vowing to keep working on.

SPEAKER_00: 31:37

Because I know it and you know it. Overthinking isn't going anywhere. It doesn't just pack up and leave.

SPEAKER_01: 31:46

But we can learn to manage it.

SPEAKER_00: 31:53

And if you find yourself in a moment where none of these tools, none of these methods that I mentioned seem to work or seem to do the trick, hold on to this. You still have agency. You are not the only one rehearsing every outcome in your head. You are not the only one replaying the text, the memory, the conversation. You're just human, among other humans, doing the best you can. And on those days, the assignment is not to figure it all out, but to just get through the next hour. Drink some water, step outside, answer one message, or do one thing that proves you still have a say in your day. As long as you're still here, you get another chance to choose what you do with this one very real, very imperfect moment.

SPEAKER_01: 32:53

And that still counts. Until the next one. Be careful.