How to Stop Overthinking: What Actually Quiets the Loop

Overthinking is usually one of two things

Psychologists split what most of us call overthinking into two habits that feel similar from the inside.

Rumination looks backward. Why did I say that? Why does this always happen to me? What is wrong with me? Susan Nolen-Hoeksema, who spent much of her career at Stanford and Yale studying it, defined it as going over and over your own distress, its causes and its meaning, without moving on to doing anything about it.

Worry looks forward. What if it goes wrong? What if they say no? What if this pain is something serious? It runs on a chain of "what ifs", each one a little worse than the last.

Most people do both, and the fixes below work on both. But it helps to notice which one you're in, because "I'm overthinking" is vague, and "I'm replaying Tuesday's meeting again" is something you can actually catch.

That isn't moving forward; it's circling around useless thoughts.
François Fénelon, Spiritual Letters

Why it feels useful, and usually isn't

The trap is that overthinking feels responsible. Stopping feels like giving up on the problem.

The research says otherwise. In a well known study, Nolen-Hoeksema and Jannay Morrow had Stanford students fill in a questionnaire about how they tended to respond to low moods. Two weeks later, the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake hit the Bay Area. The students who had described themselves as ruminators before the earthquake had more symptoms of depression and stress in the days and weeks after it.

In the lab, Sonja Lyubomirsky and Nolen-Hoeksema asked students who were already feeling low to spend a few minutes either dwelling on their feelings or thinking about something neutral, then gave them everyday problems to solve. The ones who had been ruminating came up with worse solutions. Going around the loop didn't just fail to help. It made them worse at the very thing it promised.

Ask how, not why

Edward Watkins, a psychologist at the University of Exeter, has spent years on one question: is all thinking about your problems bad, or only a certain kind? His answer is that it depends on how abstract the thinking is.

Abstract thinking asks big questions: why did this happen, what does it say about me, what does it mean for my life. Concrete thinking stays close to the ground: what exactly happened, in what order, and what could I do next. In a 2005 study with Michelle Moulds, Watkins had depressed participants think about their problems in one style or the other. Both groups thought about the same things for the same length of time, but the concrete group went on to solve problems better. Later, Watkins and colleagues ran a trial in which people with depression practiced this concrete style at home, and their symptoms improved more than with usual care alone.

In practice, it means swapping the question. Instead of "why do I always mess this up?", try "what happened, step by step, and what is one thing I could do differently next time?" The first question has no bottom. The second one has an answer.

Do not fear what you can address. What should worry you is not the problem, but if you are resisting addressing it.
James Clear, 3-2-1 Newsletter

Give worry an appointment

This one sounds too simple to work. In 1983, Thomas Borkovec and his colleagues at Penn State tried it with people who described themselves as chronic worriers. They were asked to set aside a fixed worry period each day, in the same place, and to postpone any worry that came up at other times until then. After four weeks, they reported spending less of their day worrying than people who got no instructions.

The way it's usually taught today:

Pick a short window, often half an hour, at the same time each day, and not too close to bedtime.
When a worry turns up outside it, jot it down in a word or two and tell yourself you'll get to it at four o'clock.
At four o'clock, go through the list. Some of the worries will already look smaller. For the rest, ask whether there is anything you can actually do, and if there is, decide on it.

You're not trying to stop worrying. You're teaching the worry that it has a time and a place, and that the time is not 2 a.m.

Check the forecast

Worry is a prediction, and predictions can be checked. Lucas LaFreniere and Michelle Newman at Penn State asked people with generalized anxiety disorder to write down their worries for ten days, then follow up on whether each one came true. Around 91 percent didn't, and for many of the participants, not a single one did.

You can run the same experiment on yourself. When a worry has a clear prediction in it, such as "they're going to be furious" or "I'll freeze in the interview", write it down with a date. Then go back and look. Most people find their inner forecaster is a lot gloomier than the weather.

Talk to yourself by name

Ethan Kross at the University of Michigan studies the voice in your head, and one of his findings is almost comically easy to use. In a 2014 series of studies, people preparing for a stressful speech were asked to reflect on their feelings either using "I" or using their own name. The ones who used their name, as in "Why is Sam feeling nervous?", saw the speech as more of a challenge and less of a threat, were rated by others as giving better speeches, and spent less time going over it afterwards.

Using your name, or "you", puts a little distance between you and the problem. It's the same reason advice to a friend is so much easier than advice to yourself. Next time you're spiraling, try asking what you'd say if a friend described this exact situation, and then say it to yourself, by name.

Get it on paper

A thought that stays in your head can go around forever. On paper, it has to become a sentence, with a start and an end.

James Pennebaker began studying this in the 1980s. In his first well known study, with Sandra Beall, students wrote about their deepest thoughts and feelings on something upsetting for fifteen minutes a day, four days in a row. In the months that followed, they visited the student health center less often than students who had written about everyday topics. Worth knowing: the writing made people feel worse during the sessions, not better, and later studies have been more mixed about the health benefits. But the basic move, getting the whole tangle out where you can see it, is one of the most widely recommended in therapy.

You don't need a method. Set a timer for ten or fifteen minutes and write everything that's going around, without fixing the grammar. Then close the notebook.

Do something small

In Nolen-Hoeksema's lab experiments, a few minutes spent on something absorbing and neutral lifted people's low mood, while the same few minutes spent focusing on their feelings kept it low. Distraction isn't a permanent fix, and nobody is suggesting you never think about your problems. But a short break from the loop often means you come back to the problem with a clearer head, and find it a different size.

The best distractions use your hands or your body: a walk, washing up, a few minutes of a game that needs real attention. Scrolling is a poor one, because it's easy to scroll and keep ruminating at the same time.

When it's something else

Overthinking is normal, and most people have nights when their mind won't switch off. But if the worry is constant and hard to control, it can be part of generalized anxiety disorder. Thoughts that intrude and won't leave, especially with an urge to check or repeat things, can be a sign of OCD. And rumination is closely tied to depression. All of these are common and treatable, often with a form of cognitive behavioral therapy built around exactly the habits above. A doctor or therapist can help you work out what's going on.

If you're thinking about ending your life or hurting yourself, reach out right now. In the US, call or text 988 for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. Elsewhere, call your local emergency number.

Questions

Why do I overthink everything?

Usually because it feels useful. Going over a problem feels like solving it, and stopping feels careless. Research on rumination and worry suggests the loop rarely produces new answers and often makes problem solving worse. Stress, tiredness and low mood all make it more likely.

What is the difference between rumination and worry?

Rumination looks backward and asks why: why did this happen, what is wrong with me. Worry looks forward and asks what if. Both are repetitive and hard to stop, and both respond to many of the same techniques.

Is overthinking a sign of anxiety?

It can be. Constant, hard to control worry is the core of generalized anxiety disorder, and rumination is closely linked with depression. Plenty of people overthink without either. If it's affecting your sleep, work or relationships, it's worth talking to a doctor or therapist.

How do I stop overthinking at night?

Give your worries a set time earlier in the day, so you can tell yourself at night that they already have an appointment. Keep a notebook by the bed and write a worry down in a few words instead of turning it over. If it still won't stop, get up and do something quiet and absorbing for a while, then try again.

Does writing things down help with overthinking?

For many people it does. Writing turns a looping thought into sentences with a beginning and an end. James Pennebaker's research on expressive writing found benefits from writing about upsetting experiences for fifteen to twenty minutes over a few days, although later studies are more mixed and the writing itself can feel uncomfortable at first.

How to stop overthinking