The Octopus in Charge

The Decision-Making Octopus, Part IV

Read The Decision-Making Octopus — an 8-part series about internal chaos, emotional sabotage, and showing up anyway.
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← Part III: The Octopus Tries to Love

There are phases of life where you can pretend the Octopus is just a background character - pulling a few emotional levers, whispering doubts, occasionally tripping you up.

Then there are phases where it grabs the wheel.

This is about that.

When the Octopus Runs the Show

It doesn’t happen all at once.

At first, it’s just a few decisions made from fear. A few conversations you avoid. A few roles you over-perform in, just to feel safe.

But slowly, without you noticing, the Octopus becomes your operating system.

It handles your calendar.
It dictates your tone.
It chooses your silence.
It writes your texts.
It accepts your job offers.
It delivers your jokes.
It chooses when to hug your child—and when to look at your phone instead.

You’re still there.
But you’re not driving anymore.

The Illusion of Control

The Octopus is not stupid. It knows how to look like a functional adult.

It builds a very competent life:

• You’re productive
• You’re useful
• You’re stable
• You show up
• You say “I’m fine” like it’s a job title

And underneath all of that, the tentacles are pulling in opposite directions.

One is pushing for perfection.
One is spinning out about money.
One is scanning the horizon for the next emotional threat.
One is whispering, “You're failing at this.”
One is just quietly muttering “fuck it” under its breath.

From the outside: capable.
From the inside: brittle.

The Crack

Eventually something happens.

It’s not always dramatic. Sometimes it’s just toast on the floor. Or the wrong text. Or a meeting where your voice cracks in a way you didn’t expect.

And suddenly the Octopus system can’t hide the malfunction anymore.

The fuck-it tentacle overreacts.
The perfectionist tentacle short-circuits.
The anxiety tentacle loops the same fear every 90 seconds.
The provider tentacle starts yelling “Just push through it.”

And somewhere inside, the part of you that remembers silence realises:
You’re not okay.

Power vs. Peace

The Octopus thinks power = safety.
If it can just control everything - outcomes, impressions, mistakes - it’ll finally relax.

But it never does. Because control isn’t peace. It’s just a tight grip on a shaking wheel.

The moment you loosen your grip, even slightly, something shifts.

The tentacles don’t vanish.
But they quieten.
Enough to hear yourself again.

Not the polished version.
The real one.

The one that says: “I’m tired. I want to come home.”

Part IV of the Decision-Making Octopus series
Read the full Octopus series →
Next up: The Octopus and the Lie of Balance →