Anyone with ADHD or OCD will tell you, overthinking isn’t some quirky personality trait; it’s a full-contact sport. My brain is like a hamster on a cocaine bender in a wheel made of existential dread. Once it gets spinning? Good luck stopping it.

I’ve overanalyzed texts, tone of voice, facial expressions, past convos, future convos, and whether or not the barista actually wished me a good day or was just being polite. If overthinking burned calories, I’d be shredded.

But because I like to function (and not spiral into a puddle of what-ifs every time I misread a text), I’ve cobbled together a little overthinking survival kit. Not foolproof. Not therapist-approved. But it’s kept me afloat.

1. Puzzle Games

Word puzzles. Moving blocks into tiny spaces. Anything that demands just enough brainpower to hold my attention without tipping into frustration. When I’m doing a puzzle, my mind finally has something useful to chew on instead of gnawing on my own self-esteem.

There’s something weirdly soothing about finding the right fit, solving the next word, and clicking the piece into place. It gives my brain the satisfying illusion of control and resolution, which is all it really wants.

2. The “Fuck It” Timer

This one’s weirdly effective. I set a timer for 20 minutes and give myself permission to obsess the hell out of whatever I’m spiralling about.

I go full doom mode. Google things I probably shouldn’t. Rant in my notes app. Make imaginary arguments in the shower.

And when the timer goes off? That’s it. My brain had its tantrum. Time to rejoin humanity.

3. Walking My Dog in Nature

It’s not just the fresh air or the trees. It’s the rhythm. The leash in my hand. My dog sniffing the same patch of grass like it’s a holy relic. It’s ordinary, grounding, and so gloriously not about me.

Sometimes we walk in silence. Sometimes I talk to him like he’s my therapist with four legs. Either way, being outside with him resets something in me. It reminds me I have a body, a world, a life beyond my noisy head. It’s one of the most grounding ADHD coping tools I have.

4. Writing It Out (Usually in Poem Form)

When the mental noise is too loud to ignore, I write. Not a to-do list or a journal entry. I write poems. It’s like turning the chaos into something beautiful, or at least something shaped.

The structure, the rhythm, the hunt for the right word; it all forces my brain into focus. By the time I’m done, whatever had its claws in me has usually loosened its grip. It’s how I calm an anxious mind when nothing else is working.

5. One Person Who Gets It

Not someone who will fix it. Not someone who will say “just let it go.” Just someone who will go, “Yep. That sucks. I do that too.”

Sometimes we don’t need a solution. We just need to not feel like a lone freak in a sea of normal.

None of this is magic. My brain still spirals. But now I don’t spiral alone. I have tools. I have touchstones. I have a way back.

So if your mind is a loud, relentless bastard sometimes too? Welcome. You’re not broken. You’re just thinking real hard in a world that rarely makes sense.

If you don’t have someone to vent to, I’ve set up a Facebook group for people to safely come and let off steam, share their stories, and talk to the ether without judgment.
Join the Kate & Ginger Mental Health Circle on Facebook

What’s in your kit?

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