Brain Overload

A couple of weeks ago, my brain crashed.

Not literally, but it certainly felt that way. I had lots of things to do, I jumped between them all, I finished only some of them, and I ended the day feeling anxious somehow. I didn't make the progress I wanted.

Sounds familiar?

Our brains are not only theoretically but actually computers — with remarkably similar features to the one sitting on your desk. Memory, storage, software. And just like a computer, they risk overloading when too many processes run at once. When that happens, there's only one fix: reboot.

More often than not, when I have many things to do, instead of prioritizing and working through them one by one, I multitask — convinced I'm moving faster. The reality couldn't be further from the truth.

What I actually create is anxiety. Anxiety about starting. Anxiety about finishing. Anxiety about the huge number of tasks and the overwhelming feeling that I won't get through them all.

And although we can do a couple of things simultaneously, I don't believe anyone is truly a multitasker — not if things are to be done correctly. Focus is required. Like a computer running too many processes in parallel, other tasks suffer the consequences of divided attention. And that lack of focus comes at a cost — one I've learned to recognize as anxiety.

Imagine running your computer at full capacity for days. Document open, twenty browser tabs, music in the background, photos loading. At first it manages. Then it starts lagging. Then it heats up. Then it freezes — and the only way to restore it is a full reboot.

Our brains are not different.

Whenever I try giving my attention to too many things at once, not only is it inefficient — I genuinely cannot do it even when I try — but eventually, always too late, I feel the overload. It shows up as anxiety. The restless, uncomfortable feeling that I'm not doing anything well, not finishing anything properly, not actually moving forward at all.

And this is happening while we're also on our phones, answering messages, doom-scrolling short-form content in the gaps between tasks. No wonder the system crashes.

You've searched for something online — a car, a pair of shoes — and suddenly every website you visit is showing you ads for exactly that. The brain works the same way. What we feed it shapes what it produces. The content we consume becomes the quality of our thoughts.

Which means we need to be very mindful about what we let in.

Here's something I've noticed that surprised me: even positive, motivating, encouraging content can cause overload. It's not just about the quality of the input — it's about the quantity and the time needed to digest it. Our brains need space to process what they've received; that reboot. I've noticed that this space comes from doing completely different tasks like sport (sport demands full presence on one task — which I believe is exactly why it helps) or nothing at all.

And that's exactly what the world makes hardest to find.

We are flooded with content from every direction, whenever we want, however we want — engineered to deliver dopamine spikes and keep us coming back. And you know what that addiction quietly brings along? Anxiety. Always anxiety.

The brain has plasticity. It can adapt, rewire and grow. However, it requires the right conditions to do so. Short-form content provides instant gratification (cheap dopamine, dopamine with no effort), but comes at the cost of the deep, sustained focus that actually moves our lives forward.

I notice it in myself. Sometimes maintaining focus during a conversation is hard, let alone completing a complex task from start to finish. Short-form content has rewired the reward system. Doom-scrolling feels better than working — one delivers immediate pleasure, the other requires struggle, thinking, patience.

So, I procrastinate. It provides an easy way to avoid the things I need to face in order to move forward.

The tasks I avoid always come back, though. They bring anxiety with them, and thankfully so. As I see it today, anxiety is the signal, the teacher bringing me back to what actually matters.

If I'm brutally honest with myself, I always know what I need to do. Anxiety is only trying to help me remember.

And you? How are you keeping up with your computer?