I’m not necessarily talking about crippling anxiety problems, just funny irrational thoughts that take up more head space than they’re worth.
Probably because I watch too many crime dramas, I often daydream about being framed for murder. Mostly my murder-framing daydreams revolve around trying to prove my innocence to a suspecting jury. I worry about how my explanations for my behavior would come across. Would the jurors be biased based on my mental health history? I picture myself trying to dodge incriminating questions from the prosecution. Then I imagine how I would adjust to life in jail. How would I do in a prison? Would they let me read a lot? What would happen to my relationship with my husband? What if the victim was my husband? How would I react? Would I even be coherent at first? Would the police believe my story? Would anyone take up my cause?
I can go on for a good 15 minutes letting this drama unfold in my head (including developing a verbatim script of my responses) before I remember that it’s not real and it is a complete waste of time to think about.
Yes, despite being a mild-mannered housewife living in a Mayberry-esque small town, I occasionally plot elaborate hiding and escape plans should a gang of crazed criminals ever happen to come looking for me in my house.
If I find myself walking by the nearby cornfields–they go on forever, it seems–all I can think is, “Man, if (my dog) Tucker got loose there, I’d never, never catch him.” I can practically work myself into an anxiety attack over this, and it’s dumb because a. I don’t walk him there, and b. when he does occasionally escape, he always comes home.
I think it’s just the visual of him racing away, getting smaller in the distance…
I too have the “framed-for” thoughts on occasion. Too much true crime tv!
I sometimes wonder what it would be like to get a knock on the door, and it’s the police, and they ask if I know the person in a picture, and it turns out to be an ex-girlfriend. I’d probably call her before answering any of their questions. Yeah, I know, morbid.
I also play the game that when I’m coming home, a mad killer is chasing me, and I have to get my keys out and open my front door before the killer gets me.
Because I watch(ed) too many crime dramas, now if anyone I’m meeting or waiting for is late, I start imagining going to the police and filling out a missing persons report, wondering what sort of questions about the person I could answer, imagining the police coming to me three days later to tell me the person had been killed, how I would react to that, how I would cope or not cope… By this time, the person I’m waiting for has arrived.
I do the same thing. I also closely follow a couple of missing person cases and occasionally like to read the Websleuths forums, so I think about what would happen if someone close to me went missing. Like, would I be suspected? Would my browsing history and the fact that I look up missing persons sites make me look guilty?. Will THIS POST make me look like I’m trying to cover something?? AAAHHH!
I also sometimes think about what would happen if I went missing. I can get myself pretty freaked out about it sometimes if I am home alone.
I have “systems” for various tasks that I have perfected over a lifetime of tweaking. For example, I have a certain way I take a shower that I consider the “perfect” way of taking a shower, although I do refine it if some new product comes on the market that I love. Most things I clean have a “system”.
Despite how all this sounds, I’m not particularly OCD, nor do I insist that others use my systems. It’s just something I do for myself; a weird quirk. Anyway, I spend a fair amount of time thinking about them, but the really silly thing I do is have pretend academic style lectures in my head, explaining my systems and how they really are the best way, and going over all the various features and whatnot.
It’s all very silly. Like anyone would invite me to give a talk at Harvard about how I shower…
I do this too (along with the talking to myself). I always wash and dry in the same order every time, and have for decades. It’s important to go from top to bottom, ok. If you washed your legs first, then dirty armpit water would be running over them later!
I think a lot about my teeth – genetically, my teeth are not that great and so I’ve had a lot of dental work done – and specifically, I think about what would happen if I went back in time (this is not to say I think this IS going to happen, but you know, IF it did) … how much of a problem would this be? By the standards of the era I ended up in, would my (extremely expensive) full set of whitened teeth make me stand out as some sort of toothy freak?
Ever since seeing Green Card (and yes, I know this isn’t a good source of factual information) I ponder the fact that my husband most likely couldn’t answer any questions about what brand of moisturizer I use, or what my mother’s maiden name is, and then I wonder what would happen if someone DID demand that he provide these answers. We’re both US citizens, so it isn’t as if anyone is going to question us related to immigration … but I guess it’s possible that this could come up as part of a … crime investigation? What if I go missing? I worry (well, that’s a strong word, let’s say it crosses my mind) that his lack of awareness of things like this will make him seem suspicious.
Sometimes, when I’m alone, I imagine what I should have said in a particular situation, or what I might say if some particular situation arises. I’ll repeat my lines over and over until I have them perfect. 99% of the time I realize I’m making the corresponding facial expressions.
I’ve also made myself cry countless times imagining the very specific circumstances, and my reaction to, various personal tragedies ranging from losing my favorite shirt to the deaths of everyone I hold dear.
I’ve also wondered how roller coasters are going to max out within my lifetime. Will I live to see a 1000-ft roller coaster? How about a 200+ mph coaster?
I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about how horrible it would be to die in a submarine accident. Especially since I am not, and never have been, a member of the Navy.
Getting stuck in a pipe, with my arms pinned against my sides so I can’t move, and it begins to fill up with water. I occasionally think how unpleasant that would be.
On rainy nights when I’m trying to go to sleep, I lie awake and think about where I could shelter myself from the rain and sleep if I were outside and homeless.
I have an entire Doctor Who episode scripted out in my mind (with me in the middle of the mess). I’m sure it would be a completely ridiculous, incoherent mess if it were ever to see the light of day.
I mentally rewrite Terry Cashman’s “Talkin’ Baseball” to fit whatever situation I happen to be in.
I also occasionally think about the possibility that I just missed a step on the stairs, slipped and fell and hit my head, or had some other disabling injury, but my brain expected me to continue living and so I’m currently in a coma living out what my brain expected to be happening to me. It’s really better not to think about it.
I get random Simpsons quotes stuck in my head depending on the situation. Here at work a couple people were talking about their insurance and all of a sudden: “Dental plan/Lisa needs braces! Dental plan/Lisa needs braces!” has been on repeat for the last hour.
