Every Monday I write about where cars and mental health collide, because sometimes your check engine light is a metaphor and sometimes it's just actually on.

For years, I installed car audio systems and alarms for other people while my own car sat patiently waiting with a half-finished stereo system installed and a list of to-do’s that had become so long I basically just had to ignore it to survive. Fast forward to today, that’s evolved into a handful of car projects I’ve collected that have also never been the top priority, despite how deeply I want to work on them, drive them, and connect with people through them.

The irony isn't lost on me. I have all the tools. All the knowledge. All the parts I need. What I don't have... the ability to prioritize myself over literally everything and everyone else.

These days, the pattern looks different but feels the same.

It's not just saying yes to every request for help. It's spending three hours doomscrolling through news that makes me angry, sad, and completely powerless. It's reading every comment thread about every crisis. It's consuming everyone else's problems, opinions, and emergencies until my own needs feel... selfish? Trivial? Tone deaf?

How can I work on my car when the world is falling apart?

How can I focus on my own mental health when there are bigger problems everywhere I look?

How can I prioritize my own projects when scrolling through social media reminds me every five seconds that I should be doing something more important, more urgent, more human, more... anything other than what I actually need to do for myself?

I think this is just people-pleasing with better technology.

The Installer's Paradox (Updated for 2025)

The best builders, installers, and mechanics are always driving half-finished work in progress cars. I think at this point, that should be common knowledge, especially if you know me.

When you're good at something, people ask for your help. When you're a people pleaser, you say yes to every request. Even when you don't have the time. Even when you don't have the energy. Even when you really, really don't want to do it.

But now add this... when you're chronically online, you also say yes to every algorithm. Every notification. Every crisis that shows up in your feed. Every person's opinion about what you should be thinking about, caring about, doing something about.

And then layer in job searching. The constant applications, the networking, the mental gymnastics of selling yourself while feeling depleted. It's a full-time job that takes up massive mental real estate, all while you're trying to convince potential employers you're thriving.

So often I find myself opening my phone to check one thing. Get pulled into a news story. Read the comments. Get angry. Read more comments. Get angrier. Switch to another app. See a post about someone's success. Feel inadequate. See a post about a global crisis. Feel guilty for feeling inadequate about someone's success when there are bigger problems. Close the app. Open it again three minutes later.

Meanwhile, my own car projects sat untouched. My own mental health sat unattended. My own goals sat on permanent pause.

The car wasn't just competing with other people's requests anymore. It was competing with an endless stream of content designed to make me feel like my own needs didn't matter.

Nobody talks about living through difficult times while struggling with your mental health while trying to maintain some sense of self...

Working on yourself feels selfish when the world is on fire.

Taking time for your own projects feels tone deaf when you scroll through your feed and see everything that's wrong, broken, and falling apart.

Prioritizing your mental health feels like privilege when everyone else seems to be fighting bigger battles.

So you don't. You just... don't.

You put your own needs on hold because surely other things are more important right now. Surely working on a car project is ridiculous when there are actual problems in the world. Surely focusing on your own mental health is self-indulgent when everyone is struggling.

But in practice, that actually looks different than what you might think…

You don't work on your car. You don't work on yourself. You don't do anything that brings you joy or peace or progress. Instead, you scroll. You consume. You feel bad. You feel guilty. You feel anxious. You feel powerless. Then you end up at Taco Bell eating your feelings.

And your car still sits in the driveway. And your mental health still needs attention. And your projects still wait. And now you're also exhausted from carrying everyone else's problems without addressing any of your own.

The car was just the most visible example of a much bigger pattern.

I was putting everyone else's needs, wants, and projects ahead of my own. In every area of life. And then adding a layer of guilt on top for even having my own needs in the first place.

The car sitting in my driveway with half-finished work wasn't just about not having time. It was physical evidence of how I valued everyone else's priorities, everyone else's emergencies, everyone else's opinions over my own wellbeing.

The False Justification of The Pattern

The thing about this version of people-pleasing is that it feels even more justified than the old version.

Of course you should care about what's happening in the world. Of course you should be informed. Of course you should be aware of problems bigger than your own. Of course your little car project doesn't matter compared to actual crises.

This makes the pattern feel responsible. Aware. Conscientious.

In reality, it’s just another way to avoid taking care of yourself while feeling virtuous about it.

I felt informed when I spent hours learning about problems I couldn't solve. I felt aware when I consumed every piece of bad news. I felt like a good person for caring so much about everything happening everywhere.

What I didn't feel, was entitled to my own time, my own priorities, my own mental health, or my own needs.

Your mental health deteriorates while you're busy being informed about everyone else's problems. You can recite every crisis but can't remember the last time you did something that brought you actual peace.

You never finish your own projects because working on them feels selfish when the world is falling apart. Every personal goal becomes impossible to pursue without guilt. You build resentment. Toward the news. Toward social media. Toward people who seem able to focus on their own lives without the constant weight of everything wrong in the world.

You lose track of what you actually want because you're so busy consuming what everyone else thinks you should care about. You forget to check in with yourself because checking in with the entire internet takes all your time and energy. You become exhausted from constantly carrying the weight of problems you can't solve while your own life sits unattended in the background.

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Looking at my car projects is a lot like looking at my own health.

Half-finished. Neglected. Waiting patiently for attention that never came. Always deprioritized in favor of something that felt more urgent but was actually just more immediate.

The excuse was always the same... "I'll get to it when things calm down. When the world isn't so overwhelming. When I have time. When it feels less selfish to focus on myself." Then I’d flip on the TV or YouTube and find something distracting that was disguised as learning or motivating.

But things never calmed down. The world never became less overwhelming. I always had time to doomscroll but never time to work on what actually mattered to me.

The truth was, I'd convinced myself that my own needs were less important than staying constantly aware of everyone else's crises. That taking care of myself was somehow giving up. That working on my own projects meant I didn't care about bigger problems.

The car wasn't neglected because I was too busy. It was neglected because I fundamentally believed that focusing on my own wellbeing was selfish, especially when the world needed so much attention.

On top of all that, I am looking for work. Which in itself, is a full time job that takes a huge amount of mental real estate.

This isn't awareness. It's not compassion. It's not being informed or responsible.

It's fear.

Fear that taking care of yourself means you don't care about others. Fear that working on your own life means you're ignoring bigger problems. Fear that prioritizing your mental health makes you self-indulgent or privileged. Fear that if you stop consuming everyone else's crises, you're part of the problem.

It's the belief that your worth is determined by how much you care about everyone else's problems. That taking care of yourself is only acceptable when everything else is okay first.

Looking at my neglected projects (aka my therapy), I realized this pattern wasn't making me more aware or more compassionate. It was just making me exhausted, resentful, and completely disconnected from my own life.

There's usually a moment when the cost becomes too obvious to ignore…the breaking point.

For me, it was losing my mom and trying to comfort loved ones, while having to explain the loss to all of the people who checked in on me. I appreciate all of you so much, but at a certain point, I had to let go of the people pleasing for my own survival.

A few months back, I couldn't tell even you the last time I felt genuinely okay. After embracing my needs and my ability to say no, I’m in a much better place. Slowly but surely.

The uncomfortable truth about all of this is that you can't help anyone when you're drowning. You can't solve global problems by neglecting your own mental health. You can't make the world better by making yourself worse.

Working on your own life isn't selfish. It's necessary. It's the only way you can actually show up for anything or anyone else in a meaningful way.

Your car project matters. Your mental health matters. Your joy matters. Not instead of caring about bigger things. But alongside them. Because you matter too.

And pretending you don't... pretending that taking care of yourself is somehow wrong or inappropriate or selfish... doesn't help anyone. It just creates one more person who's depleted, resentful, and unable to function.

Learning to Put My Own Car First

This shift for me didn't happen overnight. It started with small, uncomfortable decisions.

Closing social media when I felt myself falling into the doomscroll. Leaving my phone behind when I could. Setting boundaries. Protecting time for my own projects the way I'd always protected time for consuming everyone else's problems.

Recognizing that working on my car wasn't selfish. It was survival.

Understanding that taking care of my mental health wasn't giving up. It was the only way to actually have the capacity to care about anything else.

Accepting that I couldn't pour from an empty cup, and scrolling through problems I couldn't solve was just a way of feeling empty while pretending to be full.

The cars, this newsletter, and the YouTube channel, have all become practice for a bigger life skill... believing that my own needs were as valid as everyone else's crises.

Taking care of myself didn't make me less aware. It has made me more capable.

Working on my projects didn't mean I didn't care about bigger problems. It meant I had something stable to stand on while caring about them.

Prioritizing my mental health didn't make me selfish. It made me functional.

I still care about what's happening in the world. The difference is, I am doing it from a place of stability instead of depletion.

I still help people. But I help when I have capacity, not at the expense of my own well being.

My car projects get worked on now. I upload videos regularly. This writing happens every week at least. Not because I have more time, but because I've learned that taking care of my own needs isn't selfish. It's necessary.

The same principle applies to everything else.

Taking care of yourself doesn't mean you don't care about bigger problems. Having boundaries doesn't make you ignorant or privileged. Prioritizing your own mental health and projects isn't selfish.

Sometimes the most responsible thing you can do is build a stable foundation for yourself first. You can't effectively care about anything else when you're constantly depleted from putting yourself last.

The world needs people who are healthy and functional more than it needs people who are informed and exhausted.

Your car should be your priority. Your mental health should matter. Your projects should get attention. Your time should be valuable to you, not just to the algorithm.

And if prioritizing yourself feels impossible... that's probably a sign of how badly you need to start.

You can't save the world by sacrificing yourself. But you can make your corner of it better by being healthy enough to actually show up.

Start there.

When this Pursuit of Something project grows to the point where I can use it to make the world a better place, I will look back at this post and the last couple of months that got me here, and see it as the monumental change that made making all of my dreams possible.

-Nick

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