Every ADHD-er has been there.

You’re sitting on the couch at 11 p.m., minding your own business, when suddenly… an idea hits you.

A hobby. A project. A new identity.

This is the thing. The hobby that will fix your life, fill your soul, give your brain the stimulation it’s been craving. You’re going to become a person who crochets. Or rock climbs. Or makes homemade dog treats with organic turmeric and hand-sifted oat flour. You can feel it in your bones.

So naturally, you spend the next 6 hours researching. You read 12 blog posts, add $289 worth of supplies to your Amazon cart, and create a Pinterest board titled “My New Life Begins Here.”

And for the next 3 days, you are unstoppable.

You’re watching tutorials at 2 a.m.
You’re envisioning your new business, logo, and passive income plan.
You’re telling your partner “No, this one’s different.” (It’s not.)
You’re living in the glow of dopamine and possibility.

Then, without warning, the switch flips.

You wake up on Day 4 and… nothing. No spark. No urge.
You look at your pile of supplies and feel nothing but dread and dust.

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🪦 The Forgotten Hobby Graveyard

Here’s a small sampling from my own personal hyperfixation history:

• Acrylic pour painting (supplies: $200, paintings made: 3, mess cleaned: never)
• Sewing (started with fleece pouches, ended with a decapitated Toothless plushie)
• ASL (3 days of learning, now I can confidently spell “ADHD” and panic)
• Snake breeding (5k spent, morph charts created, snakes rehomed)
• Streaming (daily for a month, got Affiliate, made $$$, then vanished like a ghost)

All of them were real, intense, time-consuming, exciting… and then, suddenly: gone.

No warning. No closure. Just the overwhelming weight of one more thing I didn’t finish.

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🧠 Why This Happens

If you’re wondering, “What the hell is wrong with me?” — nothing.

This is a classic ADHD phenomenon: dopamine-driven hyperfixation.

We don’t choose it. It chooses us.
Our brains latch onto something new, exciting, and rewarding, and they flood us with focus and energy — until the well runs dry. And then it’s over.

No matter how much we spent, or how many people we told, or how much we genuinely loved it just 48 hours ago… it’s over. And that’s what hurts.

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😅 Is It Funny or Tragic? (Yes.)

The truth is, it’s both:

• It’s funny to look back on my 3-day obsession with medieval calligraphy.
• It’s tragic to think of all the hobbies I could have loved if I had the executive function to return to them.
• It’s frustrating to feel like I’m constantly cycling through phases, never finishing, never consistent.
• And it’s comforting to know that so many other people get it.

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✨ What I’m Learning to Do Instead

I’m not going to lie — I still hyperfixate. I still spend money. I still build businesses in my head before I’ve eaten breakfast.

But I’ve started doing a few things differently:

• I wait save buying supplies for last. If the spark sticks, great. If not, I saved $300.
• I give myself permission to dabble. Not every hobby has to become a business.
• I reuse materials across hobbies — that sewing machine? Still good for ADHD planner prototypes.
• I keep a “past selves” folder to celebrate the many versions of me who tried, created, and dreamed big… even if it didn’t last forever.

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💬 Your Turn:

What hobby did you go all-in on just to abandon three days later?
Tell me in the comments or DM me — I’ll add it to the Hyperfixation Hall of Fame.

And hey, even if we never touched that $300 kit again… we learned something. We were excited. We were alive.

And honestly? That’s not nothing.