Brain Clutter.That's what it is. Like the mental version of hoarding, I'm continually and obsessively collecting and picking through data until I'm so saturated that I need to let it overflow into my writing through my fingertips. Writing is, after all, an excellent way to hit the "release" valve on a mind swollen with too much thought.
In my experience, overactive minds are something of a blessing and a curse to those who possess them. On the one hand, you have the ability to piece through information and figure a thing out without having to "try" and that is a valuable quality to have, especially in the work place. But in my private life, it has been a thorn in the side and a constant source of irritation for anyone who gets close to me. When you think more, or different, or deeper than the average person, it can be alienating to both of you. The group on EP called something like, "I think that high intelligence causes depression and isolation" is not there for no reason. That isn't to say that everyone who "thinks a lot" suffers from the burden of a greater intellect, but it's fairly safe to say that the same rules of depression and isolation can apply to both. Anytime you become a prisoner of your own mind, it takes a toll on your personal relationships.
One of my ex boyfriends emailed me not so long ago and made the following statement: "I remember watching you write so many times and marveling at how much your brain churned out ideas and such. We could literally talk all day long and you'd still have enough left over to sit down and write a quite detailed narrative. Always amazed me, and I was almost a touch envious." I'd say that remark is pretty accurate. In fact, it is probably fair to say that I have more going on in my head at any given moment than I suspect many people have going on there in a full days time. And as I've gotten older, I've had to learn to compartmentalize so that I don't end up awake all night, tossing and turning until some ungodly hour, wishing desperately that my brain had a "snooze" button.
And that's the irony of it, really. After all this time, I still haven't thought of how to think less.