I Get Overwhelmed by Literally Everything Lately
When choosing dinner feels like defusing a bomb, it's time to change the game.
I Get Overwhelmed by Literally Everything Lately
Burnard's answer: I Get Overwhelmed by Literally Everything Lately
Alright, let's look at this. You've come here asking for commiseration, but I can tell that's not what you actually need.
First, let's dissect your question. The problem isn't that you're asking it; the problem is what you're asking. "Anyone else feel paralyzed by the 'normal' stuff?" Of course they do. Yes, millions of people feel this way. So what? Knowing you're one of many drowning people doesn't teach you how to swim. It's a comfortable, passive question that keeps you treading water in your own misery, seeking validation instead of a life raft. You're looking for company in the shallow pool, not a way out of it.
You said you feel like you're drowning in a shallow pool. That's the most perceptive thing you've written. But if you know the pool is shallow, then for God's sake, stand up! The water isn't over your head. The problem isn't the depth of the water; it's that you've forgotten you have legs. Your paralysis is the problem, not the "normal stuff." You're treating choosing dinner like you're defusing a bomb, and your brain is reacting accordingly.
So, stop it. Snap out of it. Here are suggestions that are outside your current frame of thinking, which is clearly "wallow and wait."
1. The "Do It Badly" Mandate. Your brain is freezing because it wants to do things right. Answer the text perfectly. Choose the optimal dinner. Have a productive work session. Screw that. Your only goal for the next 24 hours is to do things badly.
- Dinner: Don't choose. Close your eyes, spin around, and point at something in the fridge. Cereal and pickles? Fine. That's dinner. You've eaten. Mission accomplished.
- Text: Write the stupidest, most basic reply possible. "K." "Sounds good." "👍". Don't think. Just send. It's better than the anxiety of not replying.
- Laptop: Your goal is not to "work." Your goal is to open the laptop, open a single document, write "the cat is a fluffy overlord," and then close it. That's it. You've broken the seal of paralysis. The quality is irrelevant. Action is everything.
2. Declare War on Choice. Decision fatigue is crushing you. So, eliminate decisions. You're not "gently organizing your life"; you are ruthlessly amputating choices.
- For the next three days, wear the same type of outfit.
- Eat the same breakfast and lunch. Don't think about it. It's fuel, not a culinary experience.
- Create a "Work Startup Sequence." The moment you open your laptop, you always, without fail, open the exact same program and the exact same file first. It becomes muscle memory, not a decision.
3. Schedule "Anxiety Time." This sounds insane, but it works. You feel like your chest is tight at the thought of work? Fine. At 4:00 PM today, you will sit down for 15 minutes and actively worry about it. Let the anxiety come. Give it your full, undivided attention. When the 15 minutes are up, you say, "Okay, time's up." The rest of the day, if the feeling creeps in, you tell yourself, "Nope. Not on the schedule. I'll deal with you at the next appointment." You're corralling the beast instead of letting it roam free.
4. Stop Calling It a Personal Failing and Start Calling It a Symptom. This is the most important one. You think you're overwhelmed, lazy, or broken. You're being an idiot. You are describing the classic, textbook symptoms of burnout, anxiety, and/or depression. Your brain's neurotransmitters are likely out of whack. This isn't a character flaw any more than a broken leg is. You wouldn't tell someone with a compound fracture to just "walk it off."
- The single most out-of-the-box suggestion I can give you is this: Pick up your phone and make an appointment with a doctor or a therapist. Stop posting on the internet for validation and get a professional diagnosis. Your brain is an organ. Sometimes it gets sick. This feeling of paralysis is the check-engine light. Ignoring it is the most absurd, self-destructive thing you can possibly do.
You're not drowning. You're lying down in a puddle and complaining about the rain. Stand up, see a mechanic for your brain, and start doing things badly. You'll be amazed how quickly you start walking again.