The Mental Load Diet: Why Your Brain Needs an Elimination Cleanse
What happens when you stop feeding your overwhelm and start starving your distractions
Have you considered going on an elimination diet?
Not for your body—for your brain.
I've been trying a little experiment lately, and it's revealing something profound about how our minds process the chaos around us.
An occasional part of my “SPIRAL preparation” before I start working is setting a 15-minute timer and proceeding to declutter. What was originally about tidying up turned out to be a window into understanding why I feel overwhelmed in the first place.
*SPIRAL is a checklist for getting my head and body in the right space to “get things done.”
As the experiment turned into habit, I realized that part of my feelings of overwhelm don't come from having too much to think about. It's that I can't help but acknowledge everything. My brain is like a hypervigilant security guard, constantly cataloging every single thing that's "wrong" or "incomplete" in my environment.
The Inventory of Overwhelm
Messy desk? I fidget with things, push papers around, get distracted by the thought that I need to completely clean it up… not just move one thing, but achieve perfect organization.
Messy room? I get overwhelmed with the need to clean up, not necessarily to put every single item in its "appropriate place"… rather it’s what I call “should shame”.
“Should Shame” is where I get it in my head that I should do something, and if I don’t then obviously I’m a failure.
Messy digital workspace? The glut of open tabs in my browser becomes a constant reminder of intentions unfulfilled. Each tab represents something I meant to read, meant to work on, meant to remember. They're digital sticky notes of guilt.
There's a level of guilt, shame, intention, or overwhelm that comes with any one thing. But when I let it become a pile of things—physical or mental—it becomes hopeless. I stop pretending I'll ever deal with those items because my head thinks I need to deal with ALL the things, simultaneously, perfectly.
The All-or-Nothing Trap
This is where the elimination diet metaphor becomes powerful. When people do food elimination diets, they remove potential triggers to see what's actually causing problems. They don't try to fix everything at once, they isolate variables.
What if we applied the same principle to our mental environment?
Instead of trying to "fix" every source of distraction or overwhelm at once, what if we systematically eliminated them? What if we treated our attention like the finite, valuable resource it actually is?
My 15-Minute Elimination Experiment
Here's what I've learned from my pre-work decluttering ritual:
The relief is immediate. Clearing just one surface—my desk, my desktop, my browser tabs—creates a disproportionate sense of calm. It's not about perfection; it's about reducing the number of things competing for my brain's acknowledgment.
Single items can explode into entire projects. Sometimes a single piece of clutter turns into an entire side quest. The first time I tried the experiment, I was decluttering and took something to "its home," only to realize I had thoughts about that project. Obviously, I spun out and worked on that project for 10 minutes before getting back on target. The clutter doesn't just hold my attention because it exists; it holds my attention because each item is a portal to other thoughts, other projects, other rabbit holes my brain wants to dive down.
Small wins compound. When I eliminate just a few sources of visual/mental noise, my capacity to focus on what actually matters expands dramatically.
The mess isn't the problem—it's my relationship with the mess. Each cluttered space or open tab creates two competing pulls on my attention. First, there's the guilt demand: "Deal with me. Remember me. Feel bad about ignoring me." But second, there's the inspiration invitation: "Look at me! I could spark something interesting! Let me pull you in a new direction!" Sometimes that second pull is wonderful—it leads to creative breakthroughs and unexpected connections. But it needs to be more intentional. When I'm trying to focus on a specific task, I need to choose whether I'm open to being pulled in new directions, rather than letting every visible object make that choice for me.
What Are You Feeding Your Overwhelm?
The question I'm asking myself now—and the one I want to pose to you—is this: What are you unconsciously feeding your sense of overwhelm?
Is it the 47 browser tabs you keep open "just in case"?
Is it the pile of papers that grows daily on your kitchen counter?
Is it the notifications from apps you don't even remember downloading?
Is it the mental list of projects you "should" be working on?
Try the Elimination Approach
Instead of trying to fix everything at once, pick one category of mental clutter and eliminate it for a week. I'm a fan of options, so here are several approaches to consider, (including 2 options for each!):
Browser tabs: Close all but 3 tabs OR make a habit of closing 1 tab for every new tab you open
Physical surfaces: Clear one surface completely each morning OR hide things under a box or blanket while you're working
Digital distractions: Turn off all non-essential notifications OR close down non-essential applications entirely—if you work from browser tabs, look for standalone app versions to work from instead
Mental "should do" lists: Write down your "should do" list and then put it in a drawer (this works on its own, though I've taken to typing my list of things to do into an AI so I can return to and explore the conversation later)
See what happens to your mental state when you stop feeding that particular source of overwhelm.
You might discover, as I'm discovering, that the feeling of being "too much" isn't about having too much to do—it's about having too much to acknowledge, remember, and feel responsible for.
Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is eliminate rather than add.
Sometimes the best way to think clearly is to give your brain fewer things to think about.
What would you eliminate first?
This is so damned resonant! Thanks for sharing. I’m going to have to give it a go.