When You’re Overwhelmed, Find the Two

Have you ever felt completely stuck in a situation, like there’s only one way forward… and it’s not a good one? Maybe it was in a relationship, an argument, or just a moment where everything felt too loud, too big, or too hopeless. If so, you’re not alone — and your brain might just be overwhelmed by what I call the Reality of Multiples.

Life is rarely simple. Every moment presents us with a flood of inputs — thoughts, emotions, possibilities, responsibilities. Some of us can naturally narrow all of that down to a clear choice. But for many people, especially those who are neurodivergent (like ADHD or Autism), that simplification process doesn’t always happen automatically. The result? Overwhelm. Shutdown. Emotional flooding. And worst of all — the feeling of singularity. The belief that “there’s only one way.”

Here’s what I’ve learned, both personally and professionally:

Even when life feels infinite and chaotic, there are always at least two meaningful paths.

This is what I call Universal Duality — the idea that in every moment, no matter how stuck we feel, there are always two movements available. Sometimes they’re obvious: stay or go, speak or stay silent. Sometimes they’re harder to see: fix or validate, pursue or pause, lean in or hold back. But they’re always there.

And yet, we’re often conditioned not to see them.

Let me tell you about NASCAR. On those tracks, the cars go fast, lap after lap — and they always turn left. It’s part of the design. It’s what they’re built to do. In life, we do the same thing. We keep turning in the same direction emotionally, relationally, mentally — not because it’s right, but because it’s familiar. That’s the track we know. That’s what we were trained to do. We don’t challenge it because it feels normal.

But what happens if you try to turn right?

What happens if you question the story, the rule, the emotional habit that tells you “this is just the way things are”?

That’s where I bring in one of my favorite metaphors — from The Matrix. There’s a scene where a boy bends a spoon with his mind, and when Neo tries to do the same, the boy says, “Do not try to bend the spoon. That’s impossible. Instead, only try to realize the truth… there is no spoon.”

Sometimes the barriers in our lives — the ones that keep us on the track, stuck in a cycle, overwhelmed or locked into a single option — aren’t actually real. They’re beliefs, fears, or patterns we inherited or internalized, and we’ve never questioned them.

We live in what feels like a NASCAR Matrix world.
A system of tracks, expectations, and invisible walls.
But what if the track isn’t real?
What if there’s no actual barrier stopping us from turning right?

That’s what Finding Duality Within Multiplicity is all about.

In therapy, I often help people pause, look at the path they believe they’re stuck on, and gently ask: “What’s the second movement? What if there’s more here?”

One client recently reminded me of this. They were feeling emotionally flooded by their partner’s reactions and believed the only option was to rush in and fix everything. But when we slowed down, they found the second path: Stay close, but don’t fix. Just be present. Let the storm blow itself out. Be the anchor. That second path changed the entire dynamic — not because it solved the relationship, but because it restored choice.

And here’s the most beautiful part:
This applies in parenting, relationships, anxiety, conflict, and identity.
It even applies to how we see ourselves.
There’s the story you’ve been living — and the one you haven’t dared to tell yet.

So the next time you feel overwhelmed, stuck, or emotionally cornered, try this:

Name the one path you see. Then ask yourself, “What’s the second?”
And then… ask yourself again, “What if the barrier I feel isn’t even real?”

You don’t have to know what to do with that second path yet.
You don’t even have to take it.
Just seeing it is enough to start the shift.

Because no matter how it feels — you are never as stuck as your pain tells you.
There is always another movement.
Even on the track.
Even when the spoon looks real.