I’ll be honest—there’s nothing quite like hyperfocus. It’s intoxicating, consuming, and, for a brief moment, makes me feel like a superhero. I can dive so deeply into a task that the world disappears, and suddenly, I’m capable of things that seem impossible. But like any superpower, hyperfocus comes with a cost.
The Allure of Hyperfocus
I was 9 years old the first time I remember getting lost in hyperfocus. I was drawing a map of a fictional world I’d imagined—a sprawling, intricate continent complete with rivers, mountain ranges, and tiny villages. Hours passed without me noticing. My mom called me for dinner three times before giving up and putting a plate on the counter for later.
As a kid, this was my escape. While other kids played tag or watched TV, I would spend entire afternoons building Lego castles, writing fantasy stories, or meticulously organizing my rock collection. (Yes, I had a rock collection. And yes, it was color-coded.)
Back then, hyperfocus felt magical. I could block out the chaos of the world and dive headfirst into something that made sense.
What Hyperfocus Looks Like Now
At 33, hyperfocus is still part of my life, but it’s no longer just a fun escape—it’s also a challenge. When I’m in the zone, time doesn’t exist. I’ve missed meals, appointments, and even entire conversations because I was too absorbed in a task to notice.
Last month, I decided to organize my kitchen pantry. What should’ve been a simple 20-minute chore turned into a six-hour marathon of sorting, labeling, and alphabetizing. By the time I finished, I was dizzy, dehydrated, and surrounded by a sea of perfectly labeled jars. It was satisfying but completely unsustainable.
Hyperfocus isn’t just about productivity—it’s about control. When the world feels chaotic, diving into a singular task gives me a sense of purpose. But when the task takes over, I lose sight of everything else.
The Cost of Hyperfocus
Here’s the downside no one tells you about: hyperfocus can lead to burnout.
After a long hyperfocus session, I’m often physically and emotionally drained. My muscles ache from sitting in the same position for hours, and my brain feels like it’s been wrung out like a sponge. It’s like crashing after a sugar high—only the sugar was my own dopamine.
Hyperfocus can also strain relationships. I can’t count the number of times I’ve ignored texts, forgotten birthdays, or tuned out loved ones because I was too engrossed in my latest “project.” It’s not intentional, but it’s hard to explain that I genuinely didn’t hear someone because my brain was busy re-sorting the bookshelves in my head.
How I Manage Hyperfocus
- Timers Are My Best Friend. I set alarms to remind myself to take breaks, eat, and stretch. It doesn’t always work, but it helps.
- Prioritize What Matters. Before diving into a task, I ask myself: “Is this actually important, or am I just procrastinating?”
- Communicate with Loved Ones. I’ve learned to tell people, “Hey, I’m working on something right now, but I’ll check in with you later.” It’s not perfect, but it’s better than disappearing without a word.
- Self-Care Afterward. After a hyperfocus session, I schedule time to decompress—whether it’s taking a walk, lying under my weighted blanket, or watching a comfort show (The Great British Bake Off, anyone?).
Why Hyperfocus Is a Gift
Despite its challenges, hyperfocus is one of my favorite things about being autistic. It’s what helps me write for hours on end, dive deep into research, and create things I’m truly proud of. It’s a reminder that my brain, while different, is capable of incredible things.
When people ask me how I wrote an entire novel in two months or how I learned everything about medieval history in a year, the answer is simple: hyperfocus. It’s not something I can summon on command, but when it shows up, I make the most of it.
Visual Snapshot
I’m writing this from my tiny home office, surrounded by evidence of my latest hyperfocus binge. There are three empty mugs of tea on the desk, a stack of sticky notes covered in illegible scribbles, and my laptop, its battery warning flashing because I forgot to plug it in.
The air smells faintly of lavender from the candle I lit hours ago, and the only sound is the gentle tapping of rain against the window. It’s calm now, but my brain is still buzzing with the aftershocks of hyperfocus—a chaotic, electric hum that will take hours to fade.
FAQ
Q: Is hyperfocus unique to autism?
A: Not entirely. Hyperfocus is common in ADHD as well, and some neurotypical people experience it, though it’s often more intense for autistic and ADHD individuals.
Q: How can I tell if I’m hyperfocused?
A: Signs include losing track of time, forgetting to eat or drink, and feeling completely absorbed in a task.
Q: Can hyperfocus be harmful?
A: Yes, if it leads to neglecting basic needs or responsibilities. The key is finding balance and recognizing when to step away.
Final Thoughts
Hyperfocus is a double-edged sword. It’s exhilarating, consuming, and occasionally frustrating, but it’s also a reminder of the unique way my brain works.
If you’re autistic or ADHD and struggle with hyperfocus, know this: you’re not alone. It’s okay to embrace the gift while also setting boundaries. And if you ever find yourself surrounded by perfectly labeled jars in a pantry at 2 a.m., just know I’ve been there too.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a timer to set before I accidentally spend the next six hours reorganizing my bookshelves. Again.
