From the space between send and reply, this is Overthinking the Awesome with David Cosgrove. Welcome back. You're thinking too much. Good. So am I. Let's put that big brain of yours to work. Before we get started, I want to give a quick thanks to this episode's sponsor, Westwood Provisions, handmade candles out of Simsbury, Connecticut. When I'm recording or writing, the right atmosphere matters. These folks get that. Connect with Westwood Provisions on Instagram and Facebook. Tell them the Overthinker sent you. So if you want to know how you really feel about yourself, listen to what your brain says when you drop something. Mine used to yell, ha, nice job, genius. Not oops, not no big deal. Full blown biting sarcasm. Like a disappointed sitcom dad who's seen it all before. That's when I realized I'd given my inner narrator the personality of someone I would never hire to run my actual life. The narrator, that voice, narrating your every move. It's not your core identity. It's a habit of language that got hired years ago and never got a performance review. It learned its tone from parents, teachers, culture, trauma, whoever talked the loudest and most often. Then it built a script of greatest hits. You're lazy. You always screw things up. You should be farther along by now. The problem isn't that it talks, it's that it never got new material. So, here's what we're going to do. We're going to fire that narrator and hire a new one. Let's talk about the rewrite. Step one. Catch the broadcast. Start noticing the phrases that pop up when things go wrong. You'll likely see patterns, the same three or four greatest hits of self-doubt playing on a loop. Step two. Write yourself a new script. When the old narrator pipes up with wow, you really messed that up, jump in like a screenwriter doing rewrites. The old familiar line. Your new line. Okay. That was clumsy, but also kind of funny. Moving on. Keep it short, witty, and slightly loving. The goal isn't to sound like a motivational poster, is to sound like a friend who's both kind and relentlessly on your side. Step 3. Pick a genre. Every story has a tone. Choose one for your life that fits the best. Comedy. Every mistake is just a setup for a future punchline. Documentary. The subject has spilled the coffee. A minor setback. Here we see the fascinating ritual of dabbing with a napkin. The sports commentary. Oh, a bold attempt. Just missed the execution. Let's see how they recover. You get it. Once you know your genre, your brain automatically starts narrating events with that flavor. Hey, the third person hack. A bonus technique. It sounds weird, but it works incredibly well. Instead of saying, I can't handle this, try saying David, you can handle this. Use your own name, third person. Psychologists call it distanced self-talk. When you talk about yourself in third person, your brain shifts from emotional mode to coach mode. Less drama, more logic. It's like you just hired Morgan Freeman to narrate your life. Try it once. It feels weirdly empowering and pretty awesome. Your narrator builds the emotional soundtrack of your life. Change the voice and you change the feeling. So give your new narrator a name that makes you smile and happy. Captain Context. Doctor Reasonable. Aunt Clarity. Whatever works, no matter how stupid or clumsy or clever or happy as it sounds. And when the old narrator starts ranting, step in, just say, ah, thanks. We've got it from here, dude. This has been Overthinking the Awesome. I'm David Cosgrove. Stay safe out there, and remember, your mind isn't too much. You're just learning how to play it. If this episode resonated with you, the book goes even deeper. Overthinking the Awesome How to Turn Anxiety, Spiraling, and Self Doubt into Clarity and Confidence is available on Amazon and Audible. And if you want to share your journey, reach out. I'm at DavidCosgrove.com. Thanks for listening.