As 2026 started being a thing of the past and the recess of the festive season allowed my head to shift into a more contemplative space, I started evaluating the more difficult moments of the previous year. Because you see, for all the incredible steps forward I’d made, something else kept raising its head from time-to-time; much like a cheeky little mole tarnishing the luscious green creative field I’d nurtured over prior seasons.

Neural overload became a regular visitor over the last 12 months, more so than was usual for me. This in and of itself isn’t a major peculiarity when it comes to my experiences, as it is something I’ve been learning to deal with for much of my adult life. What made it different this time, however, was how regular it seemed to be occurring. It fast turned into a common occurrence, usually following a particularly racy productive streak. I’d finish a handful of chapters, publish a podcast episode I was overly excited about, or pen an essay that I felt was significantly more profound than it had any right to be. Shortly thereafter, my brain would begin to slide into overload mode, only for it to start back up again several days later.

Now let us not pretend these things weren’t already present prior to my 2025 productivity romp. I am known for possessing uniquely energetic mindset that likes to recalibrate itself, even at the best of times. Yet I’ve gotten pretty good at managing this in recent years. Project management tools, spreadsheets and various other coping strategies have become dear companions of mine, mitigating the chaos, so to speak. Only something felt different here; as if the volume had been dialled up to 11 and was beginning to drown out those coping mechanisms. It was as though the franticness was becoming all the more exaggerated. Its intensity was making me fearful. What did this mean? Should I speak to a doctor? Was I in a spot of cognitive bother?

Medical concerns aside, there was an additional worry to all of this. Because the thing is, in my naivety, I’ve always thought that my brain’s tendency to lag out and check out would fade away the moment I shifted into a more creative lifestyle.

Because you see, amongst the struggles exists a fantasy which I’ve yearned would eventually become a reality. Deep down, I tell myself there is a magic cure for my sensory saturation. I often find myself daydreaming about such a future in which this cure has worked its charms. In this world, there exists a version of me can decode the world in real time and take on any challenge that presents itself. In this fantasy, there is one feature that serves as the apparent key to these new-found superpowers.

Creativity.

Within this vision, I’m a successful author, a hit radio presenter, a renowned filmmaker or a prolific screenwriter. I’m building content and distributing it to an audience that has an appetite for my ideas. One moment I’m imagining bringing listeners to tears of laughter on a radio show; the next, I’ll have just sold a best selling novel who is selling the movie rights 20th Century Studios. I am building worlds and thriving off of it. With that success comes a confidence and level of engagement that translates into pure focus that does not wear me down in the slightest. In this fantasy, where my brain is free to flourish, I am a productive deity who never tires.

Upon applying so much as a drop of logic to such a daydream, however, it fast becomes apparent that even if these fantasies of penning best-sellers or winning a truck load of Oscars, I’d still have the same brain. Because the truth is, these parts of me don’t exist simply because I’ve been artistically malnourished. They are a part of me; a part that I must learn to handle with a level of care and pragmatism.

I’ve known for a long while that I process information slightly differently to a lot of my peers. It’s not due to poor intelligence or because I’m lazy; it’s just how I process the world. It’s why I’ve been implementing project management tools and the like to assist me on a daily basis. Yet despite having incorporated various tricks to help me over the years, my over reliance on this creative daydream has slowed down progress on that front. My journey to cope better has reduced in speed, because I keep telling myself that sooner or later, a quick fix will solve it all. But the thing is, pretending that my recurrent moments of cognitive overload will vanish the moment I’m a creative powerhouse means I’ve been overlooking the problem.

Which is perhaps why my neural overload became so frequent in 2025. Because during that time, I’ve not just been dreaming about screenplays, radio shows and novels, I’ve actually been bringing those every dreams to life (albeit with less financial fanfare, of course). Sure, I’m not getting paid for my art, but I have started finding ways to drag those fantasies out of my head and into the real world.

On the one hand, this is brilliant. I’m finally doing it! As we established in my last post, this is the best possible news for me. I can finally go to bed each night knowing I’m giving it all a go. The radio station I’ve been dreaming about for decades is now a podcast show which I co-host and edit. Plus novel is now an actual document growing in size on my Google Drive.

I’m making it happen!

But all the same, this has confirmed the truth lying behind my naïve hopes. As I’ve started writing, editing and producing more, I’ve seen that the laser-focus and infinite energy streams have failed to present themselves. And to make matters worse, at some point along the way, my drive shifted a tad too much into overdrive, turning my creative playground into a grind that’s been burning the candle at both ends. I’ve taken flight, yet in the excitement of finally leaving the ground, I found myself flapping my wings a little too quickly for their own good. The enthusiasm has tired me out before I’ve had time to properly soar.

And somehow, along the way, I’ve managed to make my troubles a little more pronounced than they were during in the daydreaming era.

Somehow, I’ve turned the act of creativity into the thing it was meant to fix. 

The desired solution to my cognitive overload became part of the cause.

And I was the one over-stoking the engine, oblivious to the fact I was fast running out of track.

But don’t worry, as I think I’ve uncovered a solution!

And no, stopping the creativity isn’t the answer.

Far from it.

To be continued…