Stuck in My Head: How Rumination Took Over My Life (and My Days)

Have you ever lost an entire day just thinking, going over the same thoughts again and again, trying to solve something that feels urgent but never quite gets resolved?

 
On this blog, I’ve written about depression before. There was a period in my life when I was deeply weighed down by it. My daughter was still very young at the time — about two and a half, maybe three. The truth is, I couldn’t really take care of her properly back then. It still makes me sad when I think about it. She went to daycare, so at least she was well looked after during the day.

In the morning, I would drop her off.
Then I’d come home and sit down by the heater. Always telling myself I’d just sit there for a moment, and then I’d finally get started on things. Because my home was getting messier and dirtier by the day. I had a cat who had thrown up hairballs on the floor. They were still there. A few days earlier, I had been sick myself — not everything had made it into the toilet. That was still there too. The dishes from the day before were still in the sink. Or rather, from several days before. And the laundry basket was overflowing.

But sitting there, in that same spot by the heater, it was as if I blinked — and suddenly it was 5 p.m., and I had to go pick up my daughter again.
Where had all those hours gone?

Rumination.

What? I can almost hear you think…
I didn’t know either, at the time, that this is what it’s called.
(I only looked that up recently.)

Rumination is when you keep going over a problem in your mind, again and again — especially something emotionally loaded. The same thoughts keep looping. And what you don’t fully realize is that your thinking is going in circles.
It feels like something you urgently need to solve before you can do anything else.
Solving that problem — which in reality has no solution — feels like the most important thing in your life.

The problem I was trying to solve was this: my daughter’s father had left us.
He had met someone else while on holiday.
And from that moment on, he wanted nothing — absolutely nothing — to do with us anymore.

Sitting there by the heater, I kept designing strategies in my head.
Should I call him? When would be the right moment? What would I say? How should I start, so he wouldn’t hang up? Or should I send a card? What would I write?

The thoughts kept going, because somewhere deep down I knew none of these strategies would actually solve anything — but I refused to consider that. That was completely unacceptable. How can a father abandon his own child like that? That’s not who he is… right?
No.
And then all these memories would come up — moments that seemed to prove the opposite. Times when he was loving and gentle with his daughter. 

And how could he have turned away from me so completely? He had told me I was the most special person he’d ever met. That couldn’t have been a lie, could it? I usually sense when someone is lying — and that hadn’t been the case. There had to be a way to reach him…
But how?

And so it went on.

At five o’clock, I would gather what little courage — and energy — I had left, and go pick up my daughter from daycare. Often I still had to do groceries, with her in the stroller. She would scream through the entire supermarket. And I barely responded.

At home, I would feed her, reluctantly. A child senses when you’re not really there — when you’re emotionally unavailable — and she would refuse almost every bite. Every day, the same struggle at the table. Until I no longer had the strength for that either. After a few attempts, I would throw the food away entirely. Exhausted, I would bathe my daughter. And once she was in bed around 7:30, I would find myself back in the same spot by the heater.

I’ll tell you another time how I eventually got out of this. Because that took quite a while.
But there are three things I want to say now.

Over time, my daughter and I built a good relationship. One that has only grown stronger over the years — and I’m deeply grateful for that. 

 
Also, because I spent such a long time in that state, I now recognize the signs much earlier. I know when to intervene. 

 
That said, it wasn’t a 100% happy ending.
That period led me into a kind of social isolation I never fully recovered from. In fact, I believe I stayed in that state for far too long — partly because I lacked support from the people around me.

Maybe you recognize this.

Being stuck in your head while the day just passes by.
Knowing it’s not getting you anywhere, but not being able to stop thinking.
Having something that feels so important that everything else has to wait.

Have you ever experienced something like this? Or do you recognize it in someone around you? And what helped you — even just a little — to find your way out? 

 
If you think someone else might recognize themselves in this, feel free to share it with them. Sometimes it already helps to know you’re not the only one. 

 
Photo: Mohrez Labaf