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I Stopped Making Decisions for a Week: Here's What Happened to My Mind

A personal experiment in psychological minimalism, decision fatigue, and the surprising effects of autopilot living.

By Asher VanePublished 2 months ago 7 min read
I Stopped Making Decisions for a Week: Here's What Happened to My Mind
Photo by Javier Allegue Barros on Unsplash

What Happens When You Don't Make Any Decisions for a Week? A Real Experience with Psychological Analysis of Decision-Making and Mental Fatigue.

Have you ever reached the end of a long day, staring at your closet or the fridge, feeling utterly drained by the simplest choices? What to wear, what to eat, what to watch. It turns out, those tiny decisions add up, chipping away at your mental energy until you're left with nothing but exhaustion. Intrigued by this idea, I decided to conduct a personal experiment: for one full week, I would avoid making any new decisions. Everything would be preplanned, from my meals to my outfits to my evening routine. No spontaneity, no last-minute changes. Just autopilot. What followed was a surprising journey into clarity, frustration, and unexpected freedom. In this article, I'll share my real-life experience, backed by psychological insights into decision-making and mental fatigue, to explore what happens when you step back from the constant grind of choosing.

The Setup: Why I Chose to Stop Choosing

The idea for this experiment didn't come out of nowhere. Like many people, I often feel overwhelmed by the barrage of choices in modern life. From selecting a coffee order with endless customizations to deciding on work priorities amid a flood of emails, it all piles on. Research shows that the average adult makes about 35,000 decisions a day, ranging from the mundane to the monumental. That's a staggering number, and it's no wonder we end up fatigued.

I drew inspiration from concepts like decision fatigue, a psychological phenomenon where the quality of our choices deteriorates after prolonged decision-making. Psychologists describe it as a depletion of cognitive resources, similar to how a muscle tires after repeated use. To test this in my own life, I set strict rules for the week. I spent a Sunday afternoon planning everything in advance: a fixed daily schedule, identical outfits laid out for each day (think the Steve Jobs uniform approach), prepped meals portioned and ready to grab, and even a curated list of podcasts and books to consume without browsing. No social media scrolling, no impromptu grocery runs, no debating dinner options with my partner. If something unexpected arose, I'd default to a predetermined "backup" choice, like a simple walk instead of gym variations.

My goal was simple: reduce decision load to zero and observe the effects on my mood, productivity, and overall well-being. As a freelance writer in my mid-30s, with a home office and family responsibilities, my days are typically filled with interruptions and quick pivots. This experiment forced me into a minimalist mindset, echoing the principles of psychological minimalism, which emphasizes streamlining thoughts and choices to enhance mental clarity and reduce stress. Little did I know, it would reveal both the burdens and benefits of our choice-heavy world.

Day by Day: The Rollercoaster of Autopilot Living

The first day started with promise but quickly hit bumps. Waking up, I didn't have to think about breakfast; it was oatmeal with the same toppings I'd prepped. No debating eggs versus toast. At work, my to-do list was already prioritized, so I dove straight in without the usual morning shuffle. By noon, I felt unusually focused, like my brain had extra bandwidth. But lunch brought the first twinge of boredom: the same salad as planned, no room for craving something different. That afternoon, when a friend texted about grabbing coffee, I stuck to my rule and politely declined, opting for my scheduled walk instead.

Psychologically, this initial phase mirrored what experts call the avoidance of choice overload. Barry Schwartz, in his book "The Paradox of Choice," argues that too many options can lead to anxiety and dissatisfaction, even if we end up with a good outcome. By eliminating variety, I avoided that paralysis, but I also missed the spark of novelty. Still, by evening, I noticed less mental fog. Normally, I'd scroll Netflix for 20 minutes before settling on a show; this time, I listened to a pre-selected podcast and went to bed early, feeling refreshed.

Day two amplified the positives. Without the drain of minor decisions, my productivity soared. I completed a writing project hours ahead of schedule, my mind sharp and undistracted. Studies support this: when we conserve mental energy by limiting choices, we perform better on demanding tasks. However, the routine started to feel monotonous. Dinner was the same stir-fry as the night before, and I craved variety. My partner joked that I was turning into a robot, but I pushed through, reminding myself this was temporary.

By day three, a shift occurred. The absence of decisions brought a sense of liberation. No more agonizing over emails or outfit mismatches; everything flowed. I experienced what felt like a mental reset, with reduced anxiety and better sleep. This aligns with findings on minimalism's benefits, where simplifying decisions fosters emotional well-being and lowers cortisol levels. Yet, an unexpected downside emerged: social interactions suffered. When my child asked for a story variation at bedtime, I stuck to the planned book, feeling a bit rigid and disconnected.

Days four and five tested my resolve. Work threw curveballs, like an urgent client revision. Normally, I'd debate approaches for hours; here, I defaulted to my pre-planned strategy and moved on faster. The result? Less stress and a quicker resolution. But personally, the lack of spontaneity bred restlessness. Imagine not choosing a weekend outing because it's not on the list. It highlighted how decisions, even small ones, add flavor to life. As one study notes, while excessive choices cause fatigue, moderate autonomy boosts motivation.

The final days, six and seven, brought clarity. I felt energized, with sustained focus throughout the day. No end-of-day slump where I'd impulsively order takeout or zone out on my phone. Instead, I read more, exercised consistently, and even meditated without the usual excuses. Overall, my mood improved, echoing personal accounts from similar experiments where reducing decisions led to greater fulfillment. But I also recognized the experiment's limits: life isn't always predictable, and over-rigidity can stifle creativity and relationships.

Unpacking the Psychology: Decision Fatigue and Why It Matters

My experience wasn't just anecdotal; it's rooted in established psychological research. Decision fatigue, first popularized by social psychologist Roy Baumeister, stems from the idea that self-control and decision-making draw from a finite pool of mental resources. Each choice depletes this reserve, leading to poorer judgments later. For instance, a famous study of Israeli judges found they were more likely to grant parole after breaks, when their mental energy was replenished, than at the end of sessions.

This fatigue manifests in everyday ways: impulse buys at the grocery store after a long day, or snapping at loved ones over trivial matters. Physiologically, it's linked to glucose levels; when blood sugar drops, decision quality suffers. In my experiment, by front-loading decisions during planning, I avoided this depletion, preserving energy for meaningful tasks.

However, the concept isn't without controversy. Recent analyses question its universality, suggesting factors like belief in limited willpower or contextual stress might amplify the effect. A 2025 study using large-scale data found no strong evidence for decision fatigue in professional settings, implying it may be more pronounced in personal, unstructured environments. Still, for individuals like me, the subjective relief was undeniable.

Beyond fatigue, my week touched on the paradox of choice. Schwartz's work shows that abundant options, while liberating in theory, often lead to regret and dissatisfaction. By minimizing options, I reduced that burden, gaining mental space. This ties into minimalism's psychological perks: studies link simplified living to lower anxiety, better focus, and higher life satisfaction. One review found that intentional reduction in material and mental clutter promotes positive emotions and competence.

The Benefits: Clarity, Productivity, and Peace

The upsides of my decision-free week were clear. First, enhanced focus: without constant micro-choices, I tackled complex work with ease, aligning with research on how routines conserve cognitive load. Second, reduced stress: no decision paralysis meant lower daily tension, much like how leaders like Barack Obama limit wardrobe choices to prioritize bigger issues. Third, better habits: preplanning ensured I ate healthily and exercised, boosting overall well-being.

In a broader sense, this experiment highlighted minimalism's role in mental health. By streamlining decisions, we create room for what truly matters, relationships, creativity, self-reflection. It's no coincidence that figures like Mark Zuckerberg adopt uniform dressing; it's a hack against fatigue.

The Drawbacks: Boredom, Rigidity, and Lost Spontaneity

Not everything was rosy. The monotony bred boredom, underscoring how variety spices life. Socially, it isolated me slightly; decisions often facilitate connections, like choosing a shared meal. Over-reliance on plans could also hinder adaptability, a key trait in uncertain times.

Moreover, as seen in experiments where AI handled decisions, removing human input risks flattening individuality. My week felt efficient but sometimes soulless, reminding me that while fatigue is real, moderate choice fosters joy.

Broader Implications: Applying This to Everyday Life

This experiment isn't for everyone, but its lessons are universal. To combat decision fatigue, try batching choices: plan meals weekly, create work routines, limit options in shopping. Tools like habit trackers can automate the process. In professional settings, it explains why end-of-day meetings yield poorer outcomes; scheduling breaks helps.

For society, it questions our choice-obsessed culture. From endless streaming libraries to customizable products, we're drowning in options. Embracing minimalism could lead to happier, less fatigued lives.

What If You Tried It? A Call to Reflection

As my week ended, I didn't revert fully to chaos. I kept some routines, like meal prepping, but reintroduced flexibility. The experience taught me that decisions aren't the enemy; unchecked abundance is. If you're feeling overwhelmed, consider a mini-experiment: one day without choices. You might discover untapped mental reserves, or at least question why we burden ourselves so much. In a world of infinite options, sometimes the best choice is to choose less. What would happen if you gave your mind a break? The answer might surprise you, and it could change how you navigate life forever.

Note: This article is based entirely on the author's personal experience and original insights. AI tools were used only to assist with minor editing and formatting.

advicecopingdepressionselfcaretherapytraumaworkanxiety

About the Creator

Asher Vane

I write what demands to be written; essays, stories, provocations, fragments of thought.

Sometimes poetic. Sometimes surgical. Always intentional.

If you're looking for comfort, keep scrolling. If you're looking for friction, stay.

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