Logically illogical

spock-illogical

Damn straight……  I should just leave it at that and be done with the post for today but unfortunately I don’t think that would serve its purpose now would it.  I suppose I should also put a caveat up saying that I am not too sure which direction this post will actually take today, and that’s okay, I think.

One of the strange things that I have noticed is that at times, my mind just doesn’t care about what is logical or illogical.  It just thinks.  And that thinking, is sometimes so out of whack it almost makes sense.  But most of the times, it turns out to be a struggle for  myself as I sit and try to figure out what it was I was thinking about, why I was thinking about that and why the hell would I be thinking about that.

Case in point, the other day I had this strange desire to locate a pair of mitts that I had.  I started looking half ass for them but as I couldn’t find them easily, I began to invest more time and thought into trying to find them.  I began to plan a methodical search, room by room, for these damn mitts.  It began to bother me that I couldn’t find them.  I re-searched the same areas more than once but couldn’t locate them.  Then I began to doubt myself that I was actually looking hard enough to find the mitts.  I even went so far as to think that if I wasn’t searching hard enough that I don’t deserve to find them.  (Notice anything…..)

Yep, my desire to find the mitts began to turn into catastrophic thinking.  Somehow, I went from thinking I should locate my mitts to self-doubt and then to believing that I was sabotaging my own efforts to find them.  Good old PTSD – turning logical thought into illogical panic since May 2018…..  But a strange thing happened.  I was able to stop myself from the downward spiral and I simply gave up before I got too far down the rabbit hole.  I recognized how off my thinking was getting and decided that the most logical response was to stop the illogical search. And yes, I realise that we all go through these little scenarios but the difference is do you think that the worse possible outcome will happen if you don’t find the object you are searching for????  Because somehow, the search for my mitts turned into the quest for the Holy Grail.

Even a few days later, my wife asked if I found the mitts yet, I took a second and then said nope.  It was in the momentary second before I answered that the illogical idea popped up that I could look again for them but, once again, I stopped the though from taking hold.  But damn, even as I am writing this, I am thinking of possible locations for where I could look again to find the mitts.  It’s really that easy for the illogical to take over the logical when it comes to PTSD.  Regardless though, I am proud to say that I am refusing to carry on the search in any way shape or form. for those damn mitts.  It has now become a matter of principle.

That’s right, the illogical has now become logical.

 

 

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