Why did the jelly wobble?

This afternoon I was having a casual conversation with Ben and he brought this up: 
"Your mind is like a library. Except the books in your library do not hold the answers to the unanswered questions. It only creates more questions. One door closes, another door opens. You're a mystery."
"Well, I thought I was quite an open book."
"Not really. Your book has hidden messages. It is too dark and encrypted to decipher." 
It is true. I have grown to have this innate nature to think too much and over-analyse every situation, and even before a problem can be fixed, I would find more faults and flaws to pick on. I hate feeling like this. It's like when you're little, and you get separated from your parents in a carnival. There's nothing but extreme panic and overwhelming fear. You have no control, but you keep looking and hoping, but you can't find them, and you don't know what to do.. and you're all alone. 

Feeling so nettled that things have been on the downside with you these days. It kills me inside when I know (or perhaps I think I know)  I'm just trying to help, but I end up making a mess of it even more. I wonder what is the magnitude of this love that we may share. Can we measure in terms of actions, or hearts on a balance scale?