Finding My Own Way: Systems, Structure, and Working With (Not Against) My Brain 

A few years ago, I went home from work and cried on my husband. Big, ugly, tears. The kind that leaves you feeling exhausted, vulnerable and fragile. Nothing monumental had happened that day.  Nor that week, for that matter. I just felt a huge sense of overwhelm that had been quietly bubbling away under the surface for a long time. I had been putting this feeling in a box to deal with later. As a busy, working mum of four, I didn’t have time to be overwhelmed. I had too much to do, too many plates to keep spinning, too many balls to keep up in the air. But this particular day, both my brain and my body said, “No more.”. It just wasn’t sustainable. Something had to change. 

I wasn’t diagnosed at the time, but I’ve since found out I have combined type ADHD. Looking back, what my brain was really craving was systems and structure. I had spent so long dealing with a constantly racing mind and a million different thoughts vying for my attention that it had almost become the norm. Everything lived in my head – every task, every worry, every plate I was spinning – with no system to catch any of it. 

So, I started building – at work and at home. Trello boards for the things I couldn’t trust my memory to hold onto. Checklists for anything that happened more than once, so I never had to rely on remembering the steps. At home, a digital wall calendar went up in the kitchen, giving me a visual snapshot of the day and week ahead every morning. My husband and I started a Sunday evening ritual – coffee and a catchup – just to make sure we both knew where everyone needed to be in the week ahead. None of it looked especially clever from the outside – just spreadsheets, a colour-coded Trello board and a calendar on the wall – but it gave me something I hadn’t had before: somewhere to put things down.  

These systems don’t fix everything, and I still have hard days. But they’ve given me a sense of calm underneath the chaos. Emotionally, I could finally be present in the moment, rather than constantly thinking about what was coming next. Physically, I started sleeping better – I’d given my mind permission to switch off for the night.  

I’m no longer battling through each day trying to keep it all in my head. I know where things live, and I know what’s coming, which means my brain finally gets to rest instead of staying on high alert all the time. It’s not about being more productive – it’s about no longer feeling like I’m constantly one thing away from falling apart.  

I don’t think my experience is unique, and I don’t think you need a diagnosis to recognise it. Most of us are carrying more than we let on, quietly keeping plates spinning long after we should have asked for help. What’s changed for me isn’t that life got easier or less busy – it’s that I finally found the right structure and support for how my brain actually works. And I think that’s true for everyone, whatever their brain looks like: the right support, at the right time, in the right shape for you, can be the difference between coping and truly thriving.  

This is exactly why I believe in what we do at Makewell. I’m not a clinician, and I don’t need to be one to see the difference the right support makes – I’ve lived it.  

If any of this sounds familiar and you don’t yet have answers, our mental health assessments can help you understand what’s going on for you. And if you’re already diagnosed and want to build the kind of structure and support I did, our ADHD coaching sessions might be exactly the place to start. 

These days, when I feel that familiar overwhelm creeping in, I don’t wait for it to turn into big, ugly tears. I put something in place instead.