Creativity Is My Curse

Yes. Creativity is my curse but its not all bad.

In the 1920s, psychologist Bluma Zeigarnik discovered that the human brain remembers unfinished tasks better than completed ones. Start something and get interrupted, and your mind clings to it relentlessly. That lingering tension doesn’t just vanish, it nags, pokes, and pulls until you go back and finish the job. And this doesn’t just apply to chores or errands. It applies to ideas. At least, it does for me.

When inspiration strikes, like the sudden blueprint of an app, or the entire plot of a spy thriller, it doesn’t politely fade away. No. It moves in. It camps out in my brain, rearranges the furniture, and refuses to leave. These ideas don’t haunt me because they’re bad, they haunt me because they’re incomplete. My brain treats them like open tabs I can’t close. I’ll be making coffee, trying to fall asleep, and there they are, looping back louder each time. It’s a mental itch, a whisper that turns into a shout: “Well? Are we doing this or not?”

This effect shows up everywhere. For example, writers feel compelled to finish the sentence once it’s started. Developers want to close out that bit of code. How many times you couldn't get that half-heard tune out of your head? It’s all the same mechanism.

What’s wild is that the science goes even deeper. Roy Baumeister, a leading expert on self-control and motivation, and E.J. Masicampo, a cognitive psychologist specializing in goal pursuit, discovered that simply making a plan for an unfinished task can calm the chaos. Their research shows that when we outline how we’ll tackle a goal, even if we don’t act on it right away, our brains stop obsessing over it. Planning, it turns out, gives the mind permission to let go.

Outline the steps, and the brain eases up. I’ve felt that. The moment I note down a plan, name a character, or list the next 3 steps for a project, the urgency fades. It’s as if the idea finally believes me, it senses I’m committed. It says, “Okay… you’re serious. I’ll stop shouting.”

But unfortunately, it doesn’t always stay quiet. Sometimes, even after the plan is in place, the idea returns like a ghost with a vengeance. I’ve given it a name, a home, a blueprint, and still, It pounds against the walls of my mind. This happens because for certain ideas, the big ones, the ones stitched into who I am, planning isn’t enough. They want life. They want movement. Until I build, write, launch, or do something real, they don’t let go. Not to torment me, but to remind me: this one matters.

And science has a reason for that too. When a goal aligns with your identity, when it feels like it’s part of who you are, your brain tags it as permanently important. These ideas don’t just reflect what I do; they reflect who I want to become. They aren’t just projects. They’re personal missions in disguise.Add to that our psychological need for closure.

Humans are wired to hate open loops. Psychologists call it cognitive closure, it's why our minds can’t stand cliffhangers. So when I leave an idea dangling, when I don’t write the ending, my brain keeps flipping back to that blank page, begging to fill it.

And if all that wasn’t enough? When I do finally rest, when I’m not writing, not building, just trying to relax, the Default Mode Network kicks in. That’s the part of the brain that activates during quiet moments, and guess what it does? It replays those unresolved thoughts.

In 2001, Dr. Marcus Raichle, a neuroscientist at Washington University in St. Louis, discovered a pattern in the brain that lights up not when we’re focused, but when we’re resting. Daydreaming. Reflecting. Wandering. He called it the Default Mode Network (DMN), a system that replays personal goals, and lingering questions, all when the outside world goes quiet.

Ever wonder why the best ideas hit in the shower? Right before bed? Or long calming car drives. That’s your Default Mode Network, running like a quiet engine in the background, reviewing everything you haven’t finished.

After my father passed, when I took time off to reset, that’s when my mind went into overdrive. I wasn’t working, but I was flooded with ideas. Reflecting in my quiet space, surrounded only by silence, they came back, half-written stories, app ideas, undone things. It felt like they had followed me there.

So yes, creativity can feel like a curse.

But maybe it’s not such a bad one.

That voice that won’t shut up in your head.  That’s purpose, disguised as an obsession. That’s your mind remembering what matters most. That’s your future work, ahead of you, just waiting for you to catch up.

If it wasn’t for this curse, this blog or article would have not existed.

And if that’s the cost of having ideas worth pursuing,

I’ll pay it every time and you should too.

 Stay nerdy. Stay bold. Stay kind.
— MindTheNerd.com