Chapter Seven: Hyperfocus

Q:		Now to move into the real nitty-gritty of what being an Aspie means. Tell me about the concept of “hyperfocus” and what it actually means to you.
A:		Ah, I love this topic. Even the word “hyperfocus” is happy music to my ears.

Being able to hyperfocus is one of the awesome traits that I think is so key to being an Aspie for the many of us who experience it. It’s both a delightful, pleasing thing when we get to become fully engrossed in something of interest, and also a frustrating thing when somebody or something causes us to have to snap out of it!

In a study posted online by RDOS^[15], in fact, the statement, “I frequently get so strongly absorbed in one thing that I lose sight of other things,” was one of the most agreed-upon statements by people with Asperger’s Syndrome, with a correlation to their Aspie test score of 0.67. (I know that doesn’t sound high, but it was the second highest correlation score out of over a thousand questions, so basically, it’s high.) And the question, “Do you become frustrated if an activity that is important to you gets interrupted?” also ranked very highly.

So yes, it is an extremely common, if not key, Aspie behavior to become hyperfocused on a topic or activity to the exclusion of all else. And do I relate to this trait, you might ask? Yes! You have no idea how much!

When I truly focus on something, I lose myself in it to the extent that the rest of the world becomes a frustration, an obstacle getting in the way of what I want—no, what I need—to be doing right now. The times that I get caught up like this are not that common, but when they do occur, trying to continue with normal life creates an inner turmoil of enduring, acting the part, and trying to hold out until the next free slice of time in which I can get back to what I really want to be doing. It’s all I can think about. In this particular aspect, my inner Aspie is overwhelmingly strong.

I’m known for skipping meals because I’m so drawn to an activity that I just can’t bring myself to stop. I work for hours and hours on end when I have a task to complete—even something as mundane as shopping for a rug—because the thought of stopping half way is, well, unthinkable. I must list every option there is and systematically work through them to eliminate the features I don’t want. If my search was incomplete, it would unsettle me. Once I start, there’s no stopping. Only completing the task will do.

I know that when I go shopping with others, they can find me tiresome sometimes when I’m on a mission to buy something in particular. People tell me to stop, have some tea or coffee, take a break, sit for a while. But how can I when time is ticking away? My mission is incomplete and gnawing at me. I must go on!

Sometimes, my tasks can be long-term projects, which can be a challenge when combined with the fact that I actually have a life and live in the real world, where there’s housework and daily chores to do and time limitations.

I’m going through a period like this now in regards to my sudden inspiration to write this book, not that I’m writing constantly. I write when I have an idea and the inspiration to do so, but it can come at the most inconvenient times. As a mum, I often need to be feeding, changing, looking after, and just giving attention to my children, and I’m not free to just drop everything and start writing as the mood takes me. So I force myself to continue with normality and act the part while the thoughts well in my head. But I’m antsy and unable to sit still or concentrate on anything else properly while ideas are flowing. Until I can write them down, they engross me.

Sometimes, by the time the chance to do that arises, the thoughts are gone and the moment lost, and I mourn the loss of those perfect, amazing, breathtaking words that I imagine might have been written. (Of course, they’re only perfect like that when I never get to read them back!)

I’m just learning now how to live with the concept that it’s okay if a train of thought is lost. Others will come. I don’t have to capture and include everything I ever think of. It’s such a new idea to me and takes patience that I’m just learning to have. By the time this book is written, I think I’ll have formulated and lost sixteen times as much prose in my head. But that has to be okay. As long as I manage to capture some of the best ideas in the end. It’ll be okay. I’m trying to convince myself here…

Something else that’s holding my focus right now is my new Aspie group that I’ve recently started attending and how talking to other Aspies makes me feel alive. There are so many exciting concepts to explore and the feeling of not being alone and having so much to say on a topic is stirring me to want to create. In fact, it was one of my Aspie friends who motivated me to sit down and try and write this book again and triggered that buzz of excitement about it in the first place. Thank you, David N.! (He requested his surname remain anonymous.)

I’ve been very much enjoying corresponding with my newfound friends via Facebook and email. It’s exhilarating to be able to connect with someone on that deeper, intense level and to have so much in common.

This morning, I went to the hairdresser for a cut and color and was awfully aware that I ought to be engaging in small talk, focusing on other people, and staying with reality. But the preoccupation was too strong today. In my head, I was forming the words to an email, the next thing that I wanted to say to somebody. And by the end of my cut, I’d written this chapter in my head (of course, a little differently, as that set of words were among those lost to lack of opportunity to put them on paper).

I’m sure the hairdresser assumed I was quiet or shy. That’s okay. Or did they think I was vague and a bit mentally absent? Did I look glazed over? Every now and then, I would be asked a question, and I would have to snap out of it to answer. I’d have to think about what they said, concentrate on making the right facial expression and tone, and formulate an answer in words.

Inside, it agitated me. I just lost a paragraph of imaginary writing, not that I was going to get it down anyway. But it would take me away from that soaring feeling of ideas flowing. I want to immerse myself in that. I mean, all I really want to do is go hide in a corner somewhere, alone with my thoughts and without the distraction of having to be conscious of how I look to others or responsive to their approach.

This high state of mind when I just get a new idea has thrilling physiological effects. I feel like someone who has just drunk a large amount of caffeine. I’m buzzing. It lingers longer than the caffeine would. The excitement, combined with some sort of anxiety, can make me tingle. Often, when I have these ideas, I lay awake for most of the night, unable to calm my mind. Is this unhealthy? Should I be fighting it? Who am I kidding? I don’t want to. I want to stay like this forever. There’s no feeling better than having something exciting and inspiring to think about. I wouldn’t give it up for the world.