I live way up in my head. This seems obvious to me but over the years I have become reasonably convinced that a significant proportion of other people do not experience the kind of busy-ness of mind that I do. They seem far more decisive and clear about what they are doing. It feels like I’m just winging it and putting on a brave face while my head whirls.

Decision-making has always been difficult for me because I can see a myriad of possibilities and my mind is adept at ‘gaming out’ the potential and likely consequences of a given choice. That said, experience (and psychology) has taught me that we are far less able to accurately predict outcomes than we might believe.

We tend to be overly optimistic when positively motivated, overly pessimistic when we feel threatened. In particular, I find it incredibly difficult to predict how long even simple tasks will take me if I have not done them before. For example, I know cleaning the bathroom takes about 20 minutes from consistent experience; writing a lesson plan can wildly vary based on the topic and because it demands a different form of focus.

Focus. This is the perennial challenge for me. I can be hyper-focused on a given activity, enter the flow state, and lose track of time: hours can pass; if I am alone, it can become days if nothing else interrupts me. I will sleep, then rise and continue. I’ll forget to eat. Most of the time, however, I struggle to finish an episode of a TV show, read to the end of a chapter, or listen to a song I love all the way through.

There is a crowd of voices all around me. Firstly, there are thoughts that seem to be buzzing around my head, forever giving me images, words, suggestions, and provoking emotions. The trick with this might lie with Elder Thaddeus of Serbia’s words:

“Thoughts are like birds. We cannot forbid them from flying, but it is up to us whether we allow them to land and build a nest on our heads.”

Then there’s the stuff people say and write, especially those we depend on or who are within our lives due to work or friendship. Weirdly, I am also unreasonably affected by what people I don’t know say – especially if they are critical or question my capabilities. I know that I need to focus on the ‘significant others’ and ignore the rest, but that is easier said than done.

There are also the ideas that I noodle on. Thoughts arrive, build a nest in my head, and I turn them into ideas. As Father Stephen De Young has said, thoughts are transient but ideas are tools. These ideas are the means by which we can transform our lives and those of other people. But even then, an idea not put into action is inert and ultimately useless. No point having a spade you never dig with.

If you’re wondering what the problem is then you’ll need to realise that sometimes I can focus on one thing and make it happen. This will always be when I take action – such as to write this post – and then enter the flow state of hyper-focus. But I can never predict when inspiration (aka intrusive thoughts) will invade my awareness. Sometimes, I have an idea but I cannot grasp it… and it flutters away. Heaven help me if someone walks in the room or speaks to me.

But the worst moments are the ones where I am not anchored and am free to allow my mind to drift. This is the blessed resting state – the time when thoughts come and go and the mood is placid – but it’s also the time when the sense of uncertainty can bloom into self-doubt and self-critical ideas. Some small thought, what someone said or wrote, or a question about a person’s meaning or motive… these are common triggers for a descent into worry.

This is the backdrop of my life. Within the roleplaying games hobby, I sense it’s a more common experience than in the wider world of my career and commerce. But it affects my hobby. It’s the reason why I find it hard to grasp and bring a long-term campaign to the table. It’s the undercurrent behind my reticence to be someone’s player in a serious campaign. How can I hold focus for these things?

And then there’s the underlying sense that I am missing out on something when other people describe experiences of wonder doing activities that I simply failed to engage with. One-shots and rules lite; solo play; this or that campaign world; this or that new set of rules; brand identity and intellectual property. Much of it leaves me cold. What is wrong with me that I can’t see (and feel) what others do?

Why am I writing this? Largely because I am drifting. I have no energy – too many days with too much heat in the earliest summer heatwave I can remember, too many nights with little sleep? I have no desire or will to prep, whether as GM or player. I am like a dry bed stream. Empty. Washed out and feeling discarded.

But I have an inkling. The idea of doing something alone. Something for myself. Is it just another fluttering thought that will ultimately just turn out to be ephemeral and worthless? The problem is that I can never quite tell the difference until afterwards. It’s all well and good to point out that thoughts are ten-a-penny, but how do you figure out which ones to nurture into ideas?

This is the experience of living way up in my head. I have a self-loathing about this but… how can I be anyone except me?

Game on.