I’ve had a thinking process my whole life, which I really tuned and perfected in high school. I am what is probably referred to as a “dreamer”. Maybe. I think about possibilities, some fantastic, some practical. In speech and debate, I used this method to get over my shyness, which must have worked really well, since most people consider me a strong extrovert.
I still do this, the thinking. If anything, I think too much. I am at my best when I have no time for thinking, because I do my best thinking in that moment when I am on edge. I am comfortable in emergencies, and I always know what to order when the waitperson asks.
Of the course, my mind lately has been speculating/role-playing out the scenarios I have as a co/parent. I think of how I will approach certain situations, contentious events that would require a lot of effort between myself and Susan and/or Clover (or between all three of us, such as which pizza to order). I am not joking about the pizza thing, either. Little things like that, and then big things, like the most traumatic things that have happened to me and the people around me (except to the faceless, pre-person that I already love so much).
This has all been a build up to my point. I always do this, and I am fine with it. It gives me confidence, and is largely responsible for my sharp wit. However, sometimes I think of things that have a secondary affect on me, I can tell it drudges something up, rather than being speculative.
Lately it has been all the things left unsaid, between me and my parents.