BRAIN BREAKDOWN

When you do too many things you shouldn't instead of doing what you should.

The day before yesterday I woke up with a migraine.

For the past few days, probably even weeks, I've had a lot on my mind; trying to solve a thousand mysteries, thinking and processing events, analyzing life itself, and trying to pay attention to everyone and everything. And I think my brain just decided to say:

“Enough. Enjoy your migraine, you asked for it.”

But, of course, I wasn't happy at all. However, after trying to ignore the problem without any success, I had to admit to myself that I wasn't okay and that I needed to take a nap. Something I've honestly hated doing since day one—just ask my parents—so I reluctantly took some ibuprofen and went to sleep. I got at least three or four hours of sleep. I didn't wake up until the heat forced me to.

---

When I woke up, my migraine was gone, but then I had to fight the guilt of not having done anything except take a ridiculous three-hour nap. It wasn't the first time I'd had to deal with a migraine—I've had them since I was six—so I was perfectly aware that the only way to fix the problem was to take medication and get as much sleep as necessary. When I realized this was something I couldn't change, I decided to change what I could. I decided to stop thinking about everything I hadn't done and focused on the good: the migraine was gone, and neither was the foggy feeling.

After that, I dedicated myself to taking notes, jotting down things I didn't want to forget, responding to two or three pending messages, and keeping my brother's new pet bird alive. Yes, the poor thing had been fed too much, and I had to make him vomit before his digestive system collapsed. I also hydrated him and blew in his face to keep him conscious. I think it worked because after an hour in intensive care, he started jumping all over the place. Sadly, this morning he was on the verge of death, so my brother decided it was best to end his suffering. End of tragic history.

Anyway, even though I didn't do anything out of this world that day, for the first time in a long time I decided to take it slow. The same routine, the same as every day, but this time without worrying about paying attention to everything. I decided to focus on one thing as long as necessary, instead of trying to get rid of it as quickly as possible, as if that would make me a successful person. The truth is, I was having everything but success.

I realized I had to stop trying to solve all my problems in my head and start solving them externally. It's not the first time I've come to this conclusion either; to be honest, I think I've come to it more times than I can count. So why do I keep falling into the same rut? Because this is a years-long habit I haven't been able to fully break. And habits, good or bad, are hard to break.

Going slow is something I've never been able to do without feeling like I'm going against my nature. I always want to reach the finish line as quickly as possible, to hold the trophy of victory. Because I'm ambitious not only in the grandeur of my goals, but also in the effectiveness and performance of how I achieve them. And it's tiring. Too much.

But sitting back and waiting for the problem to resolve itself isn't me either. I need to sit back and slow down, think without rushing, so I can get to the heart of the matter, the thing that started it all. But once I find the problem, my strategic instinct immediately begins to map out routes, options, and possible outcomes to fix whatever's going wrong. And then comes the part of taking action.

The problem is, I've known what I need for a long time, but for one reason or another, I've been trying to deny it to myself. Pretending it doesn't exist. Or worse, pretending other things are the priority. I've been doing a lot of things, but not the ones I should or need to do. They're important and valid, yes, but they're not what I need right now. As a result of not doing what I needed to do, another problem arose.

I started to hate myself.

I started berating myself for everything that was going wrong in my life, and that only slowly sapped my motivation until my desire to fight the world became sporadic and my moments of apathy became a daily occurrence, instead of the other way around. It used to be the other way around, but ignoring what I knew deep down I should be doing was what led to this vicious cycle that has been so difficult to break.

Now that I know what I have to do, and with God's help, I hope to finally face reality and start moving the pieces on the board. Will I have to go against society's expectations? Yes, absolutely. But not because my intentions are bad, but because my expectations, as well as my capabilities, are higher than society's, and I guess that, in a way, makes me a rebel. I know it won't be easy, but I know it's the right path. And if I don't take the first step, no one else will.

It's time to start walking, but slowly, at my own pace. Without feeling like I'm failing at something by not accomplishing amazing things in an inhuman amount of time. Some can, I know they can, but not everyone. And definitely not me.

Stopping is valid. Slowing down to analyze the panorama while you sip your favorite beverage and assess the situation is more than valid. It's more than an option. Often, it's the first thing you have to do, even if your ambition screams at you to run. And appreciating what I have always helps. Giving thanks in moments of anguish, frustration, or despair always proves to be an effective antidote. Not to solve the problem, but to change my perspective on it.

I don't like it when my conscience starts telling me, "You have to do this, and this, and this too, don't forget that; but you're not doing anything either." But maybe it's just God telling me, "Hey, come back, you're losing focus on me." And when I get back to where I started, everything feels so much better, and the feeling isn't a burden anymore. The only way to get back focused is to slow down and take a step or two back. Even if it's hard, even if we don't want to admit it. Because if we deny it, we're only going to hurt ourselves.

I've had to write this article in parts. I started writing it yesterday and managed to finish most of it, but I had to finish the rest today because yesterday my mind was in complete blackout. A kind of brain meltdown where ideas just wouldn't connect. I guess I'm still experiencing side effects from using my mind the wrong way. So much so that I ended up hurting my brain.

I think pushing yourself is good, because otherwise we'd never achieve anything, but not to the point where progress costs us mental clarity and emotional peace. The moment things start to feel like we can't breathe, it's time to take a step back. I'm still learning how to do it. It's difficult, but I know I can do it. I just have to learn to be patient, instead of wanting to run before I learn to walk. Maybe pushing yourself isn't about hitting the gas, but about keeping your hands firmly on the wheel, moving in the right direction, toward the right habits.

And I guess I'll end here because I don't know what else to say. I'd rather close this post than continue just to make it longer and end up talking about meaningless things. Without further ado, I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes:

You will never reach your destination if you stop and throw stones at every dog that barks.

— Winston Churchill

I think it fits perfectly with everything I just said. We're always going to find a lot of things that grab our attention, and I don't mean they're all bad, but sometimes it's not the time to pay attention to them. Choose your battles. The ones you can fight now, not the ones you're not ready to face yet. The day will come when you're ready for them. Keep fighting, keep breathing. And take some rest.

Behind the letters, a girl 🌹

---