Analysis Paralysis

Ok, well the original plan was to write something nerdy for this week's newsletter. But I'm still editing that one. I had some issues with time constraints this last week due to the rapidly approaching Easter holiday. The kids have been home on Spring break. And we take our holidays very seriously in this house and it involves a lot of prep to try and do fun things for them. This means multiple shopping trips, cleaning, decorating, etc.. And I just didn't get a moment to sit down and finish editing the article.

But I didn't want to send nothing, so instead I'm whipping up a quick little thing about a problem I've had for a long time: indecision. Vile, filthy indecision. It's sometimes referred to as "analysis paralysis," which in my case is extremely accurate because the cause of my particular breed of indecision is the result of having too much control and too many options at my fingertips.

I know that probably sounds ridiculous. Most people love having options, and love having control over things even more. And I do too I guess, but it can be a curse for someone like me. Did I make the right decision here? I think to myself. Would it be better if I did this instead? I go on. And so I make that change and I ultimately end up hating it. This is because I feel like the old thing was better or, more accurately, the "right" thing. And so I switch back. But any satisfaction I get from going back doesn't last either because I always end up feeling like I could make it better by making it different. Or more accurately, making it correct by making it different.

As you know, I've been hard at work recreating my cyberpunk blog, trying to make it into something professional looking. Part of the reason it's taking so long—aside from the fact that I really don't have time to work on it—is that I have too many options. This is mostly in terms of the site's design. And what frequently happens is I get overwhelmed with choice and freeze up, not knowing what to do or what would be best. Invariably, I'll get it to a point where I feel like I like it and then come across someone else's site with very good design and I think What if I made it look more like that?

I know that sounds kinda pathetic, and rooted in envy. But it's actually a lack of self-confidence on my part. I see another site that looks nice and functions well, in terms of how content is presented, and I feel like I'm doing it wrong. While these people, who clearly know what they're doing, are doing it right.

What I've been able to determine, through the haze of damaged self-esteem, is that I'm not doing it wrong at all. The funny thing about all the sites that I encounter that inspire me to feel this way. . .they all look and feel different from one another. None of them are doing it right or wrong. They're just doing it their way. I just feel like I am doing it wrong because I feel like I am incapable of doing it right.

My analysis paralysis is not limited to web design of course. I experience the same with games, books, and just about everything else. I own hundreds of games and my backlog is truly astounding at this point. And every time I have a few moments to sit down and play something, I have no idea what to play. If it isn't he latest Zelda or Metroid—both of which always require my immediate attention—it becomes a much more difficult task for me to decide than it needs to be.

And it's the same for books. I've acquired so many books over the last couple of years. Many of which I would like to write about for Cyberpunkery. You'd think that would be incentive enough to start something. Anything.

The issue with the site and the issue with the games and books are different types of analysis paralysis though. And one is more dangerous than the other. The latter is based on having too many options and my uncanny ability to get overwhelmed by it. The former is firmly based on a damaged self-image. And while neither one of them are easy to overcome, it's definitely far easier to force myself to sit down and play a game or read a book than it is to convince myself that I can actually be good at something.

But "knowing is half the battle" and all (thank you G.I. Joe). I feel like the fact that I've been able to recognize the root of this problem is a good sign that I might be able to overcome it. Hell, I've already overcome it in part by even starting this newsletter to begin with. The decision to do it and then to follow through with it is a sign of progress in and of itself, I think.

And so, with that being said, I am making the decision, right now, live, in real time, that I'm going to stop torturing myself over how good things look and just get to work on the stuff that really matters: The writing. And playing, watching, and reading the things that I want to write about.