Always on the cusp of something

That gap between the magic I know I can reach and how often it escapes me — that’s the hardest part of living in my brain.

Worried looking older man, beard, balding, left hand on his temple. Around him, gears, books, and drawings.

One of the hardest-to-name feelings I live with is the sense that I’m always almost there — on the cusp of a thought, a breakthrough, a deeper understanding. I can feel the shape of an idea forming, but it slips just out of reach before I can hold onto it. It’s like trying to tune into a radio station (if you even know what a radio station is, lol) that’s just barely out of range — you catch the melody, but not the lyrics. I don't know if its the ADHD brain, but it's something I've struggled with all my life.

That feeling leaves me hovering in shallow work mode more often than I’d like. I want to go deep — into strategy, into clarity, into momentum — but my brain skims, skips, gets stuck. Sometimes I fight back with structure: I block off time, I write things down, I coax the ideas into form. And when it works, it really works — the flow comes, the spark hits, people feel the energy. But when it doesn’t, I know how it looks from the outside: like I’m avoiding the work, dropping balls, falling short.

That gap — between the magic I know I can reach and the reality of how often it escapes me — is one of the most frustrating parts of living in my mind.