Do you sometimes constantly think of what to say to people?

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Not just in general new experience type but even my family of nearly 30 yrs. I do this. It's especially bad if I did something that upset them usually the rest of the day I'm debating on what to say to them. For instance I was in an over analysis mode trying to understand how to help my little sister with her online homework. Then mom was upset over this type of behavior so I tried to mark off a "list" in my head "don't bring up what to study for her tomorrow" "keep it casual" example Oh we are going to Walmart in the morning early. etc. Mark off things on a pretend "list" of what to say.

My older sister has a new heart condition so I was over analyzing what it was called how to fix it etc. But wasn't to be socially appropriate of you will be ok no big deal (which it is.) again keep the conversation casual "Oh you go a Fit Bit band cool" etc. again a list of what to say not to say etc.

It sometimes DRIVES ME NUTS! Not to mention a previous recent post on planning everything down to the letter A then B then C with house chores!

I always try to script everything, but I'm horrible at scripting, so it's a pointless effort.

I do, because I'm always trying to plan things out, and when something seems amiss or out of order my brain is talented at working at fixing it - so it tries to do the same for this kind of thing, too.

I do. I'm always imagining/scripting particular conversations with people in my head or to myself, usually about one of my special interests. This includes imaging what they would say or arguments they would make and what I would say in response to those.

Thanks!!

more with new/unusual experiences, but sometimes other things, too. It's often a case of trying to figure out exactly how I want to word thigns, sometimes a case of trying to figure out what's needed and what isn't. Like I recently was telling someone about how my great grandfather had heard a famous evangelist, Billy Sunday, when he came to our town when he was a teen, and as I'm relting this, I had to figure out what items were important to what I was conveying and what weren't. He never even knew himself if he was born in 1894 or 1895 for instance, but in trying to share his age, I have gotten good enough at sharing such thins that I no longer fumble over exact years but just said "late teens." however, had Ig not been paying at least a little attention to it I probably would have let that "We don't know if he was 16 or 17" in there without thinking.

And, I'm at the stage (mid-40s) where I've become very adept at knowing so many facts that I can pretty much try to be part of a conversation and eitehr have something relevant or at least ask questions or make a joke. That's been my go-to method for decades, it's just that early on I probably sounded like too much of a know-it-all becasue i didn't really know how to regulate my dissemination of information. (Plus there was that whole school thing where I thought because it was rewarded in school everyone wanted to hear everything I knew about something.)

I finally noticed that in my family the conversational norm is single, non-compound sentences. I tend to talk in paragraphs so I have to watch myself. I also have to actively avoid interjecting factoids. Otherwise, I quickly become a pedantic know it all.

I have also had to let go of feeling as though I must say something. If my sitting quietly irks someone, let them come up with something to say. After they do it is formulaic active listening to keep things going for a bit.

My options are limitless when it comes to thinking of what to say to people. When I was a wee bit younger, I used to constantly roll my eyes and try my best to find an answer that fits, but sometimes, wellbeing interferes with the body and the mind so lack of control is often inevitable, I always felt that I had a big emotional mood disturbance when I was at school, as I would cry a lot and often cry myself to sleep when I couldn't process the harsh resistance of the day. All this seems to portray someone as the victim, but mentally, I was losing concentration as well and the mood just stuck.. I was overworked, at home and at school, and I had nightmares about going to school.
No one knew how I was feeling, but the truth very often stagnates into a blur. There was nothing 'friendly' about going to my school. Being picked on would often spur me on to finish my work and create a block for my message in a bottle sort of feelings. I was naturally quiet, but forced measures reflected on my lack of privacy and work space. No room for ransom became a common guilt trip catchphrase to trick my related fear of the unknown and get my blood pumped in the right direction. Right now, a flat rate of residue clings to me like the scent of white musk which was one of my popular body odour sprays. With hair like gold and skin like rose, she will have beauty wherever she goes.