I think I need an intervention…

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Don’t worry PMAO. This is not about the drugs.

Fellow bloggers. My friends. I may need help. It has been three years since my last confession. What am I talking about? I’m not catholic. Okay, help please.

I was starting to write a top ten list of things that suck about summer. The reason I was writing that is because it is summer. There are a lot of things about summer that suck. I also have not done a top ten list in a while, so I thought I should do one because I don’t want to be a post slacker like some other people I know.

Anyway, as I wrote number 9, I wanted to link it to an older post that I had written, so I looked up the older post, and as I was reading it, I realized…I am OAW. I know. You are probably thinking “You? How could you be? It makes sense for some other people, but why you? Don’t you have a unforseeable number of other weird things that afflict you daily?”

If you weren’t thinking that, what is the matter with you? I am pouring my heart out to you and you don’t even care. Do you. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you what an OAW is. Sorry.

OAW – Over Analytical Writer. Yes, I know that is hard to believe, but some people are afflicted with this rare condition. As I read this old post, I remembered that when writing it, I used the actual “Twas the Night Before Christmas” poem to guide me. Each line in the poem has the same ending words, or at least sound as the real poem. Now, I know that all of you are probably thinking “well, of course silly, all of us have at one time or another used the same rhyming scheme as a famous poem.”

You might actually be right. Just because I can write on and on for months about Over Analyzer Anonymous, doesn’t actually mean I overanalyze. Just because I can analyze line by line the entire lyrics to “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” from the perspective of an overanalyzer doesn’t mean I do that when I write too. Yeah, you are probably right. It is not as bad as I thought.

On the other hand, you might be wrong, in which case I am probably screwed. Well, I don’t know. I am sure that there are other overanalytical writers right?

Anyway, we might both be wrong and maybe it is actually the effects of a massive brain tumor or something. As devastating as this is, we can get through this together. Or I need an intervention. But not the kind like they do on that show. I’m not that bad. Right?

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45 thoughts on “I think I need an intervention…

  1. you always have a way to make me smile Hobbs!
    I hope I don’t belong to post slackers like the some other people that you know aside from whom you link-forwarded to, though I don’t find him that way.

    What I hate about summer? It is too hot! πŸ™‚ Literally hot.

  2. God, I hope we don’t have a brain tumor! We make being an OAW cool and glamorous- it’s proably trending on Twitter right now as I write this! Probably.

    I think “Intervention” is my middle name. Sigh.

    • Thank you Madame. I was thinking the same thing. Well, not really, or I wouldn’t have written a different post. Then again…

      Actually, I was thinking demented was pretty awesome. It plays on my bad side. πŸ˜‰

        • Ahhh, Hobbles, I hate to admit this but I am so drugged up right now (legal prescription drugs people LOL) that I have no idea where I was going with this. I didn’t sleep yesterday at all and I only managed a few hours last night of fitful sleeping. I gave up at 5 AM this morning of getting any more. Maybe, just maybe I will be able to sleep tonight. However I will not hold my breath waiting. πŸ™‚

        • Just the few hours last night. I managed to shower this morning. I wish I could say I did that everyday like I used to, but lately I am lucky if I can force myself to shower every 2 to 3 days. The drugged feeling is starting to wear off finally. Drug myself to Walmart to return some things that I bought during one of my manic craziness spells. Even with no money I manage to lose control and get carried away. So instead I bought too much food. I can’t believe those few bags cost me almost $100. Ridiculous!! A lot of that was cat food and litter for the cat that I acquired during one of those manic phases. I have no impulse control while manic. I love the cat, but when I am depressed I resent having to take care of her. I would never mistreat her though. Well I just wrote a book I see…..

          • I have been having impulse control problems for a while. I am finally starting to recognize it, but it’s still hard to think about why I want to do something. I read this very technical, but interesting thing the other day about addiction and impulse control. I can find the link if you want it, but it is so strange. Anyway, I know how you feel about your cat. This is horrible, but sometimes I feel that way about my kids. It is so messed up, then I hate myself for feeling like that. Depression is like a tornado. It sucks everything up and it wants more.

        • If you can put your hands on the link, please post it. I understand the feeling about the kids. I am lucky mine are grown because I would resent the hell out of them. I don’t feel good and don’t want to be bothered. I hurt my daughter’s feelings one day when she said “you know you can come visit us (and the grandchildren) anytime. That should help your depression.” Uh no, young grandchildren annoy the hell out of me right now. I can’t stand kids antics anymore. I just spent several hours with the other daughter and her young child. I don’t know how I raised 3 kids and lived to tell about it LOL! So I do understand your feelings.

        • Very technical, beyond my understanding at this time LOL! I can’t take kids screaming, fighting, smart mouthing, running around out of control especially in public, etc. Occasionally I will see a well-behaved cute kid and laugh and smile, but most of the time I just want to scream – shut up! I don’t babysit the grandkids. πŸ™‚

        • Most kids are sweet when they are sleeping moreso than awake. πŸ™‚ I have one extremely bad grandson. His parents don’t like it when he cries so they give in and so of course he knows all he has to do is cry. He is in for a difficult life. He starts kindergarten in September. When the father isn’t around he begins to learn, but as soon as he comes back into the picture it starts all over again. I find his antics very embarrassing.

  3. okay . . . maybe you are over-analyzing all of this.
    Just my analysis. Being an over-analyzer too. (did ja ever notice – I just did – the use of ‘anal’ in that equation. oy vey and oh yuck, LOL’ing!)

      • “OCD is a form of overanalyzing, too” – so true. Or perhaps we are OCD analyzers? Would that be . . . OCDOAA? which makes me OCD-OAA-DID/MPD-PTSD/CPTS?
        LOL, inventing another language I guess. Made of nothing but labels . . .

        There ya go: another story for you. People and the labels we wear “on our chests”. Maybe I’m just a paper mache man, LOL, with all the labels ‘they’ got stuck on me . . . imagine a world where you had to wear all your labels on the outside, for all the world to see (eg. “depressive, manic, given to extreme bursts of prone laughter” et cetra ad infintum)

        • I would have too many labels. You probably would too. Maybe we could have those vinyl type labels that when you move it shows a whole different picture. I have a picture that shows all four seasons from different locations in the room.

  4. Ha… you knew I couldn’t resist a post that starts off with me! I mean, I was gonna read it anyway, but still… Even when you write about how hard it is to write, or how you don’t know what to write about, or how writing is driving you crazy, I would still rather read that writing than a lot of things that other people ever wrote… right?

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