What Is Rumination? Why Your Brain Won't Stop Trying to Solve the Problem
Have you ever suddenly realized you've spent the last twenty minutes replaying a conversation you had three days ago?
What exactly did they mean by that?
Maybe your response sounded weird.
They did seem quieter afterward.
But they also said they were tired.
Maybe you should ask someone what they think.
Or go through the conversation one more time, just to make sure you didn't miss anything.
You probably didn't consciously decide, "I'm going to think about this until I feel better".
You just started.
That's one of the tricky things about rumination. It can become so automatic that we don't recognize it as something we're doing. It feels more like something our brain is doing to us.
And it can be exhausting.
What is rumination?
Rumination is repetitive thinking that circles around the same question, problem, fear, decision, or experience without really moving us forward. I often hear people describe it as the hamster wheel.
It can look like replaying conversations, reviewing decisions, analyzing why you feel a certain way, imagining every possible outcome, checking your memory, Googling, or repeatedly asking other people what they think.
Rumination can show up with anxiety, OCD, depression, and other mental health concerns. It can also happen without a diagnosis.
Thinking deeply isn't the problem. The problem is when thinking becomes repetitive, difficult to disengage from, and starts stealing your time, attention, or ability to be present in your life.
If I realize I forgot to pay my hydro bill, I have a problem I can solve.
I pay it.
Done.
Rumination tends to circle questions without the same kind of endpoint.
Did I make the right decision?
What if I regret this later?
What if they're upset with me?
Does this feeling mean something?
What if something goes wrong?
These questions contain uncertainty that more thinking usually can't eliminate.
This is also where reassurance seeking can get very sneaky.
Asking someone if they're mad at you is technically an action. So is Googling a symptom, checking something one more time, or asking three people whether they think you made the right decision.
But an action isn't necessarily problem-solving just because you did something.
A useful question is: Am I taking an action that actually addresses a problem, or am I trying to make myself feel certain or reassured?
Sometimes that's surprisingly hard to tell.
Welcome to the courtroom
I often describe rumination to clients as entering the courtroom.
Something happens that creates discomfort or uncertainty, and suddenly court is in session.
The prosecution presents evidence:
"She answered my text differently than usual."
The defence responds:
"She said she had a really busy day."
Rebuttal:
"Yeah, but remember her facial expression yesterday?"
Call a witness:
"Can I ask you something? Do you think she's mad at me?"
Maybe we research previous cases. Hello, Google.
Eventually we get a verdict.
She's probably not mad.
Relief.
Court adjourned.
Until your brain finds another piece of evidence.
"But what if..."
Court is back in session.
This is why rumination is so frustrating. Sometimes it actually works in the short term. You reach an answer and feel better.
The relief just doesn't last.
Why does my brain keep doing this?
There isn't one correct explanation for why someone develops a pattern of rumination.
Biology, temperament, learning, stress, life experiences, mental health conditions and neurodivergence can all influence how we respond to distress and how easily we can shift our attention away from something that feels important.
What we can often see, though, is a pattern that helps keep rumination going.
Something triggers discomfort or uncertainty.
Your brain analyzes, reviews, or checks.
Eventually, something gives you relief.
And your brain learns: "Oh. When we feel like this, this is what we do."
So it does it again.
Rumination can become a learned, increasingly automatic response to distress because at some point it worked well enough to keep getting invited back.
Over time, your brain may start applying the same strategy to more and more "problems."
The topic changes. The pattern doesn't.
This is one of the most frustrating things about chronic anxiety and rumination.
You finally settle one issue, and your brain finds another.
Last month it was your relationship.
Now it's your health.
Then a decision.
Then something you said.
Then whether you're doing your job properly.
The goalpost moves.
This is why I am often less interested in the exact topic someone's brain has chosen and more interested in what they're doing with it.
Are you analyzing? Reviewing? Checking? Googling? Comparing? Asking for reassurance? Trying to achieve a particular feeling of certainty before you're allowed to move on?
The subject matter isn't irrelevant. Sometimes we genuinely have problems that need our attention.
But the content can change while the process stays remarkably similar.
The courtroom just gets a new case.
Thoughts are not facts. Feelings aren't facts either.
I use these two reminders a lot in therapy:
Thoughts are not facts.
Feelings are not facts either. They're valid, but they're not facts.
Something can feel deeply, urgently wrong without that feeling proving that something is wrong.
A thought can feel incredibly important without requiring an investigation.
This matters because rumination often comes with a sense of urgency.
I need to figure this out.
I need to know.
I can't move on until this makes sense.
Instead of automatically following that urgency into the courtroom, we can get curious about it.
What am I hoping another round of thinking will give me?
Certainty?
Relief?
Proof?
Permission?
Reassurance?
And what would I have to allow if I stopped trying to figure this out?
Maybe I don't know.
Maybe they're annoyed with me.
Maybe I didn't make the perfect decision.
Maybe I feel guilty, embarrassed, or scared.
Sometimes there isn't another piece of information missing. Sometimes we're trying to use thinking to get rid of a feeling or uncertainty that thinking can't actually remove.
So how do I stop ruminating?
The goal isn't to stop having thoughts.
It's also not to become really good at convincing yourself everything is okay. That can become another form of reassurance.
The first step is simply recognizing when court is in session.
"I'm reviewing this again."
"I'm trying to get certainty."
"I'm looking for reassurance."
Then ask whether there is genuinely something to do.
Not: "Is there anything I could possibly do to feel better?"
An anxious brain will have plenty of suggestions for that.
Ask instead: “Is there a reasonable action that addresses an actual problem, or am I about to do something mainly to reduce my uncertainty?”
If there is a genuine problem to address, address it.
If there isn't, practice allowing the question to remain unanswered.
Maybe they're upset with me. Maybe they aren't.
Maybe this was the right decision. Maybe it wasn't.
I don't know.
Then bring your attention back to what you're actually doing.
Not because you're trying to distract yourself until the anxiety disappears. The discomfort gets to come with you.
You're just choosing not to keep trying the case.
What if my brain brings it back five minutes later?
It probably will.
You may leave the courtroom and realize five minutes later that you're back in it.
That doesn't mean you failed.
You notice again.
And leave again.
This is the practice.
Over time, you're allowing your brain to learn something different:
I can have a thought without solving it.
I can feel uncertain without immediately fixing it.
I can continue with my life without having the answer.
Rumination can also function as a mental compulsion in OCD, where the subject can become particularly sticky, and the drive for certainty can be intense. Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) can be helpful in changing that cycle. I'll talk more specifically about OCD and rumination in another post.
For now, the important thing is this:
You don't have to win every case.
You can leave the courtroom.
Knowing this and actually doing it are two different things
You may have read this entire article and thought, "Okay. I completely understand what I'm doing."
And then find yourself ruminating again before dinner.
Knowing how the cycle works doesn't automatically switch it off.
If rumination has become your brain's go-to response to uncertainty or distress, it can happen incredibly quickly and in ways that are hard to recognize. Reassurance seeking can be particularly sneaky, and even strategies meant to help with anxiety can sometimes turn into another attempt to get certainty or make an uncomfortable feeling go away.
This is where therapy can be helpful.
The work isn't about someone giving you the answers to the questions you've been ruminating about. That would just put another person in the courtroom with you.
Instead, therapy can help you recognize your particular patterns, catch the less obvious ways you're getting pulled back into the loop, and practice responding differently when uncertainty or discomfort shows up.
And yes, your brain may eventually start wondering whether you're doing all of this correctly.
Brains are helpful like that.
The goal isn't to become a person who never overthinks anything again.
It's to get better at recognizing when your brain has been handed a problem that thinking can't solve, and learning that you don't have to solve every thought before you can get back to your life.
Sometimes "I don't know" really is the answer.
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Kelli Gherasim, MA, RCC, provides counselling for teens and adults experiencing anxiety, chronic rumination, OCD, and intrusive thoughts at Creative Horizons Counselling in Colwood, BC.
Learn more about counselling with Kelli or book a complimentary meet-and-greet.
Creativ Horizons Counselling is located in Westshore, Victoria, British Columbia.
