When The List Becomes The Lock
If you are a regular reader you are thinking that this month is supposed to be about living in Daytona Beach so what does that have to do with task paralysis. Well,
I live about an hour from a cruise port. That means I can wake up, decide I need a break, and be on a ship to Mexico or the Bahamas by dinner. Sounds like a dream, right?
It is. Sort of.
See, the moment I decide to take a cruise, I go full hyperfocus: booking the sailing, planning excursions, making specialty dining reservations like I’m being graded on it. I even make an itinerary for relaxation (because of course I do).
Then?
That hyperfocus dies instantly.
The empty suitcase I proudly set out sits untouched in the middle of the room. I trip over it for days. I stare at it, knowing I need to pack, but now I’m frozen.
And worse—once the cruise is planned, it’s all I can think about. Not in a fun way. In a “brain now paralyzed to anything else” kind of way. It could be two weeks away, but the fact that something is coming up? That I need to be ready, not forget, not cancel?
That’s enough to shut down the rest of my life.
If I could pack right away, get it done, and move on, maybe things would be easier. But… that’s not how my brain works. And I’m learning I’m not the only one.
When the Day Starts Frozen
There are days I wake up and just… can’t.
Not emotionally can’t. Not physically can’t. Not some dramatic resistance to life.
Just can’t.
And here’s the kicker: I almost always know what I need to do. I’ve got a list—usually handwritten, sometimes color-coded, often guilt-soaked. It’s not that I don’t want to do the things. It’s that the second I look at the list, my brain flips a breaker.
If I tell myself I have no responsibilities? I’ll pop right up. I’ll start folding laundry or fiddling with a project. I’ll make a new recipe or start rearranging the bookshelf.
But the minute I remind myself there are actual tasks to be done? Game over. My brain immediately gets stuck on what to do first. What’s most urgent? What can wait? Should I knock out the fastest one? Or the one that’s been hanging over my head the longest?
And just like that, I do… none of it.
The Middle-of-Task Spiral
Sometimes it doesn’t even wait for the list. I’ll be halfway through something—say, organizing a shelf or creating a new product—and suddenly remember something else that needs to be done.
Now I’m stuck.
If I jump up and do the new thing, I might never return to what I was doing. But if I ignore the new thing, I can’t stop obsessing over it. I sit there, ping-ponging between two tabs in my mind. Do this. No, that. Wait—this. No, that.
And in the time it takes me to overthink both options, the window for either has passed.
That’s task paralysis. It’s not laziness. It’s not poor time management.
It’s a brain tangle.
I'm Not the Only One
The more I talk about this, the more I realize I’m not alone.
I’ve seen post after post on social media—people stuck in the same loop. Neurodivergent folks. Chronically ill folks. Burned-out moms, solo entrepreneurs, students, caretakers… we’re all trying to function in a world that runs on urgency, while our brains are still buffering.
I used to think I was just lazy. Or flaky. Or weak-willed.
Nope. Turns out there’s a name for this thing. And it’s not just “procrastination with a flair for drama.”
What Causes Task Paralysis (AuDHD Style)
Task paralysis is exactly what it sounds like: your brain hitting pause when it’s time to get started. But for those of us with ADHD or AuDHD (autism + ADHD), it’s not because we don’t want to do the thing. It’s because our executive function has exited the chat.
Here’s what’s usually happening under the hood:
Too Many Tabs Open: We don’t just see the task. We see every step, every possible outcome, every emotional landmine buried underneath it—and we see them all at once. It’s like trying to walk through a crowded room full of yelling people and pick just one to talk to.
Emotional Weight: Tasks carry emotions. A phone call might mean confrontation. A sink full of dishes might mean failure. A missed deadline might mean shame. Those emotions pile on top of the task until it’s no longer “send the email”—it’s “face everything you’ve ever avoided.”
Perfectionism & Fear: For many of us, especially late-diagnosed neurodivergent folks, every action feels like a test. If I can’t do it right, should I even do it at all? So we freeze. Because if we don’t start, we can’t fail. (Flawed logic, but deeply human.)
Reward Dysfunction: Our brains are motivated by interest, novelty, or urgency. If something isn’t fun, new, or due in five minutes, it often doesn’t register as important—even if we know it is. That’s why we can clean the whole bathroom when we’re supposed to be doing taxes. Or plan a dream vacation when the laundry's screaming from the basket.
And the kicker?
We’re often aware we’re doing this. That’s the hell of it. We see it. We name it. We hate it.
And we still can’t move.
One Thing. Just One.
Lately, I’ve started trying something new.
When I make my list for the day, I choose ONE thing that has to get done. Not ten. Not even five. Just one.
If I do that one thing and nothing else? That’s still a win.
The rest of the list becomes optional. Not forgotten—just… not pressing.
That single priority gives my brain a direction, a starting line, and a place to land.
It’s amazing how often that one thing turns into two, then three. But even when it doesn’t, I go to bed knowing I did something. And that’s more than I could say on the days I stared at the list and did nothing.
From List to Calendar
Here’s another shift that’s helped: I’ve stopped treating lists like floating demands.
I keep a calendar planner now. When something pops into my head that needs to get done—especially if it’s something I can’t do right that second—I don’t add it to a running list that’ll get buried under three other lists.
I schedule it out.
That way, it’s off my mind. It has a home.
And I’m not carrying the mental load of remembering a dozen to-dos that don’t belong to today.
But I have to admit: I still write things down in too many places.
Sticky notes.
ChatGPT threads.
My journal.
Scrap paper.
The back of envelopes.
Google Calendar.
And once it’s written down? I usually don’t think of it again… until I stumble across the note a week later and feel the cold jolt of forgetting something that once mattered. That moment alone can trigger another freeze.
So instead of trying to fix it all with a rigid system, I’ve started thinking in cadence, not calendar.
That phrase changed everything.
Because cadence gives you permission to flow.
It’s not about “Do this task on Tuesday at 3:00.”
It’s “When this kind of energy hits, here’s what I can lean into.”
That loosens the pressure valve. It keeps the mind moving without the chokehold of missing a self-imposed deadline. I might not get to something today. But I will get to it—when the rhythm lines up.
One Place for All the Stuff
Since I tend to scatter thoughts across five platforms and six notebooks, I’ve started using a printable tool I made to help hold all the life clutter in one place.
It’s called the Life Tracker Journal Sheets — 55 pages of self-direction tools, with no fluff and no judgment. Debt tracking, savings goals, mood charts, meals, mindfulness, gratitude, pet stuff, focus planners, even chore pages.
It doesn’t tell you what to do. It just gives you one place to hold it all when your brain is full and you're tired of rewriting the same to-do list every week.
If that sounds like your jam, it’s in the shop. I made it for me first. You’re welcome to borrow it.
We Still Get There
If this sounds like you, please hear me: you’re not broken. You’re not failing.
You just process the world differently—and that’s not a flaw. That’s a truth.
We may need more time. We may need more tools. We may need to whisper “just this one thing” to ourselves every single day.
But we can find ways to move forward.
We are allowed to go slow. We are allowed to get stuck.
And we are still allowed to try again tomorrow.
Tell Me How You Move
If task paralysis has been part of your world, I’d love to hear what’s helped you shift out of it—whether it’s a strategy, a mantra, or a reminder that made all the difference.
Drop a comment below and let’s start a thread of support.
You never know who might read your words and finally feel understood.
Because even in the moments where we feel frozen, we’re never truly alone.
Freebie: 10 Minutes a Day, That’s It
If you need just one tiny win to feel a little more in control of your space, I made a free tool that might help: The 10-Minute-a-Day Cleaning Checklist. A soft structure for tidying up, without overthinking every corner of your house.
It’s a simple printable that breaks your home into small zones—kitchen, living room, bedrooms, bathrooms, hallway, outdoor areas—and gives you tasks to do in each, for just 10-minutes per day. Nothing extreme. Just enough to stop the spiral.
Want it? Drop your email below and I’ll send it right over.
