My Brain... Still holding Up. Just About!

There comes a point in life when you realise your brain is no longer the sleek, high‑performance machine it once was! 

It used to be a Ferrari. It is now, at best, a 1993 Vauxhall Astra with a mysterious rattle and a dashboard light that flickers ominously whenever you stand up too quickly.

My brain, for example, used to remember everything. Phone numbers. Birthdays. The capital of Peru. (It’s Lima. I think. If not, please direct complaints to my hippocampus, which is currently on a tea break.) These days, my brain can barely remember why it walked into the kitchen. It stands there, confused, staring at the toaster like it’s a cryptic message from an alien civilisation.

And yet somehow it’s still holding up. Just about. Like a weary office temp who’s been asked to do “just one more thing” for the 47th time today.

The trouble is that modern life demands far more from the brain than it was ever designed to handle. The human brain evolved to do simple tasks like “avoid tiger” and “find berries.” It did not evolve to remember 900 passwords, operate a smart TV remote with 57 buttons, or understand why your phone keeps insisting you need to update something called a “firmware patch.”

My brain, when confronted with a firmware patch, simply shuts down. It goes into safe mode. It displays the mental equivalent of the spinning beach ball of doom. Meanwhile, I’m standing there shouting, “JUST WORK,” as if yelling at electronics has ever helped anyone.

But the real sign that your brain is starting to show its age is the moment you begin making Old Person Noises. You know the ones. The involuntary “oof” when you sit down. The “hrrrgh” when you stand up. The “nnngh” when you try to remember the name of that actor who was in that thing with the other actor who had the hair.

Your brain used to retrieve names instantly. Now it takes three days and arrives at 3am, shouting, “IT WAS JEFF GOLDBLUM,” just as you were finally drifting off to sleep.

Another worrying development is the Memory Prioritisation System, which appears to have been designed by a drunk intern. Important information  like where you put your glasses is deleted immediately. Meanwhile, your brain has chosen to permanently store the theme tune to Postman Pat and the fact that you once embarrassed yourself in front of a girl in Year 8 by sneezing into your own crisps.

And don’t get me started on multitasking. When you were younger, you could juggle five things at once. Now, if someone speaks to you while you’re buttering toast, you have to stop, put the knife down, and say, “Hang on, I can only do one thing at a time or I’ll butter the cat.”

But here’s the thing: despite the creaks, the glitches, the buffering, the random mental pop‑ups reminding you of things you did wrong in 1984… your brain is still doing its best. It’s still processing. It’s still learning. It’s still valiantly trying to keep you alive, even though you occasionally walk into rooms with no idea why.

And honestly? There’s something heroic about that.

Because the brain isn’t just an organ. It’s a companion. A slightly unreliable, occasionally chaotic companion who forgets birthdays but remembers every advert jingle from the 1980s. A companion who panics when you lose your keys, then smugly announces they were in your hand the whole time.

So yes  my brain is still holding up. Just about. It may not be perfect. It may not be fast. It may not always be helpful. But it’s mine. And as long as it keeps the lights on and remembers how to make tea, I’ll call that a win!