Earlier this week, I found myself in a familiar place.

Already behind on the things I wanted to finish in December. Frustrated that everything was taking longer than I swore it would. Trying to convince myself that if I could just work a little smarter, I’d catch up.

This is one of my default patterns.

I overestimate my available capacity. I underestimate the effort a project will take. And when the gap between the two widens, I shut the world out and focus harder.

On Tuesday night, I was wired. Cody and I had just recorded a podcast interview (we're going to be on Around the Circle in January!), which always activates my system. So to wind down, I pulled up a conversation with one of my favorite scientists.

In the middle of the interview, he said something that made me pause the video. He said the first thing he'd ask an artificial superintelligence is this:

What question should I ask but haven't yet because I’m not smart enough?

So, I opened ChatGPT (which I often rant to about my problems), typed the question, and waited.

What it said next exposed something I’d been avoiding like the plague...

I’ve been treating a capacity issue like an efficiency issue

The response told me I wasn’t failing or inconsistent. I wasn’t undisciplined or unprepared.

I was under-resourced.

The real bottleneck wasn’t knowledge or systems or clarity. It was simple: I've been building something that demands 130% of my energy while my nervous system can only reliably offer around 60% on any given day.

No amount of optimization compensates for that kind of mismatch.

And yet, that is exactly where most Fives get stuck.

Why Fives keep misdiagnosing the real problem

When we feel overwhelmed, our instinct is to solve it with better thinking.

We ask questions like:

• How do I build a better system?
• How do I get more consistent?
• How do I optimize this task?
• How do I make this faster?
• How do I reduce friction?
• How do I work smarter?

These questions feel productive. They keep us inside our intellect. They let us stay self-contained, which feels safe.

But, they all point to the same category of solution, and none of them increase capacity.

They only rearrange the load.

The truth most Fives don’t want to see

Eventually, your system hits its ceiling. You feel the symptoms before you understand the cause.

Maybe it looks like:

• Bursts of intense output followed by sudden drops
• A growing reliance on adrenaline to get things done
• Confidence that rises and crashes with your energy
• Days lost to rebuild mode after you push yourself too hard
• A quiet fear that you are the limiting factor in your own dreams

These aren’t signs you’re doing something wrong. They’re signs your system is overloaded.

You cannot think your way out of a capacity problem.

Support isn’t a luxury. It’s the missing variable.

This is the shift my robot guru forced me to see.

Support isn’t an emotional crutch.
It isn’t indulgent or co-dependent or weak.
It isn’t evidence that you can’t handle your life.

Support is what increases your usable capacity.
It's how you reduce system overload to avoid the crash.
It multiplies efficiency instead of forcing you to chase it.

Once I let myself see this, something opened up.

I remembered my previous assistant from when I used to run an agency. I remembered how much cognitive load she quietly removed from my system. I remembered how much easier everything felt when the work wasn’t all on my shoulders.

So, I reached out to ask if she'd want to work together again.

She said yes.

And almost instantly, the pressure that had been sitting in my chest all week eased. Nothing on my task list changed. My system changed.

The load finally had somewhere to go.

The real question you haven’t been asking

It’s not: How do I get more efficient?
It’s not: How do I do everything faster?
It’s not: How do I become more disciplined?

The real question is simpler:

What would this look like if I wasn’t carrying all of it by myself?

Once you ask that honestly, the entire landscape shifts. Because you stop trying to optimize the wrong variable.

You stop trying to outthink your biology.

You start resourcing it instead.

Your experiment this week

Run a simple, low-stakes test.

Step 1: Pick one task you normally carry alone.​
Choose something small but real. Examples:

• Editing a video
• Organizing a folder
• Drafting a document
• Scheduling something
• Research you’ve been putting off

Step 2: Hand it to someone else.

• A partner
• A coworker
• A contractor
• A friend who is happy to help
• Basically, anyone who is not you

Step 3: Pay attention to your system, not the task.
​You are observing the energetic shift, not the output.

Notice what happens in your body:

• Do your shoulders drop?
• Does your breathing ease?
• Does your mind get quieter?
• Do you feel a small wave of relief?
• Does the whole project feel more possible?

Step 4: Capture your data.​
Write down what changed. Even one sentence is enough.

Step 5: Treat this as evidence, not a verdict.​
You’re not committing to anything long term.
You’re testing the assumption that support increases capacity.

Because once you experience what it feels like to be resourced, you start to see the truth:

Your problem was never that you needed more efficiency.
It was that you needed more support.