Thinking is a process that helps us expanding our horizons but if we continuously keep on thinking about a particular object, it becomes overthinking, and overthinking takes away our peace, and in return, gives nothing. We get restless and start panicking. Though we are laypersons but still overthinking adds to our anxiety, now for a second, imagine how overthinking affects the life of a struggling writer.

Let's suppose 'A' is a struggling writer. The word 'writer' itself denotes his struggle and narrates a tale of his endeavors, and with an addition of a word 'struggling', it speaks volumes of his efforts. It's a common observation that when we are struggling, we find many thoughts welcoming us, we ignore them easily, and soon they disappear. But with writers, these thoughts don't disappear, instead change personalities not just scripts. 'A' also faces a lot of troubles on an account of excessive thinking:

Existential Crisis

I am not a writer nor a poet. I’m nothing but someone like everyone. I’m on my way to make my own identity because I don’t believe that my existence gives me an identity, and yes, I do carry a stereotypical approach that one has to make his/her identity by striving hard.


I don’t use the same angle of judgement to judge both myself and people; I respect people a lot so I refrain from criticizing anyone, but when it comes to me, I’m the worst judge. I can’t spare myself for the sake of self-love, and the result of my judgement is the continuous conflict between me and my thoughts.


I don't know what am I writing, but for the first time, I'm using writing as a catharsis to get rid of the pressure that is building up in my heart in the form of palpitations. A girl, who doesn't read much, in an effort to read more, gets away more from reading; and spends more time watching movies or listening to old songs, is doing nothing to uplift herself from the level she's currently at, instead harming herself by delving into the world of fantasy.

Repression of Desires

I want to enjoy reading books like they all do. I do read listicles, short articles, short stories, philosophical poems, and Urdu poems more than thick books. It's my dream to read those big fat books one day. It really is my dream. Oh God, please help me.

Conflict between Veiled and Unveiled Thoughts

a) Veiled thoughts

I don't know. Do I know that I don't know what I don't know? Am I being crazy? Will people judge me?

These thoughts are further divided into diminutive thoughts:

1) Forget people, let them think what they think.

This thought is contrasted by a train of thoughts:

a) But it matters, what they think because I use them as a mirror to see my own self.

This thought is opposed on its way of establishing inner motives:

b) I want them to matter because I don't want to put off the sheath of dependency and they want me to dependent on their opinions.

2) Value the opinions of others in the genuine sense because they are unbiased and can observe us from those angles that we are often missing, sometimes out of bias while sometimes due to lack of awareness.

b) Unveiled Thoughts

I am not comfortable in talking to the people as I'm shy and have social anxiety disorder. At this point, all my excuses get united and slap me harder for defaming them in front of everyone. They remind me of my residual moments of happiness and I feel abashed.

Pride disguised in worry I part myself from my thoughts because I am very skeptical about the consistency of my thoughts. They keep on changing and I don’t believe that they mold me the way they want. I believe I’m more powerful than the pivot created by my thoughts. My strength creates a fury in their hearts, which makes them combat against me.

Post-writing Anxiety

I try to leave my own write-ups to spare the criticism of others, and when none criticizes me, I feel either my write-ups are not worthy enough to be criticized, people are too modest and humble, editors are favoring me without any reason by not editing what I send them or I'm over-judging myself. Latter can never be true, for I can't avert my eyes away from my flaws, while former assumptions are ambiguous. I think I should spend more time on my write-ups before sending them anywhere because whenever they get published and I read them again, I find them brimmed with so many mistakes. Now, it can't happen that I have improved my writing skills fortnight so the only possibility which my mind can envisage is that I'm getting favors from everyone these days, be it God, family, friends or publishing agencies. And I am unable to rule out the cause of such undue favors which I didn't even ask for. Now, I will never defend myself by putting on a veil of typicality that, your write-ups must be worthy enough otherwise why will they approve them? I never ever will go with that proposition. Nor I want to go towards the soothing temporal path of rationale, for it will make me mentally handicapped by allowing me embrace those propositions that go in my favor instead of the ones that can teach me something. No, I won't ever underpin such distracting hypothetical views. I know what ultimately my answer will be, I should read more so that i can edit my own writings better than others because I criticize my writings so much that I'm sure, one day, they will carve a shape of perfection the way I want. I know they can never be perfect because there is no word aka 'perfection' in the dictionary of real life, but for me, perfection will be, when I'll see no sentence-fragment, lots of em--dashes and en-dashes, hyphens (a dream), and continuous flow of words in my writings. That's such a big goal that it doesn't let me sleep and even if I sleep, it makes me up and I open my laptop to start writing something.

A supercilious moral

You, yourself have to figure out that if something is not worthy to be somewhere it is currently at, why it is existing there? Why is someone giving you a hot cake without you working hard for it? Not everyone insult us by using derogatory words, some insult us by spreading a web of appreciation; it's not an appreciation but depreciation disguised in flowery words or superficial attitude. Beware. I'm making myself aware too.