I Ruined Miley Cyrus in 11 Days (And Other Things My Neurodivergent Brain Has Destroyed)

On hyperfocus, dopamine, and the very specific grief of burning through something you loved

I ruined Miley's "Flowers" in approximately 11 days.

Not because it's a bad song. It's a great song. I ruined it myself - methodically, enthusiastically, without remorse - by playing it on a loop until my nervous system wrung every last drop of dopamine out of it and then looked at me like, we don't do that here anymore.

If you're neurodivergent, you didn't need me to finish that sentence.

You already know what comes next: the restaurant order you ate on repeat for six months before you couldn't look at it anymore. The TV show you watched three full times back-to-back, then abandoned mid-rewatch like it personally wronged you. The hobby that consumed your entire personality for a season (you bought the supplies, you joined the subreddit, you became that person) and then evaporated overnight, leaving behind only a very specific kind of shame and a set of watercolor brushes you'll never use.

We don't dabble. We hyperfocus. And then we grieve.

What's actually happening in your brain (I promise this is interesting)

Here's the part I want you to hold onto, especially on the days when you're standing in front of your hobby graveyard feeling like something is fundamentally wrong with you.

Nothing is wrong with you. Something is different about you and that difference has a neurological explanation.

The ADHD (attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder) and autistic nervous system doesn't regulate dopamine the way neurotypical brains do. Dopamine is the neurotransmitter most associated with motivation, reward, and that "yes, more of this" signal your brain sends when something feels good. Neurotypical brains tend to maintain a more stable baseline level of it. Neurodivergent brains, particularly those with ADHD, have a harder time sustaining that baseline.

So when something hits, when it really, genuinely hits, the brain doesn't say oh, how lovely, I'll enjoy this moderately. It says more of this, immediately, and also forever.

That's not weakness. That's not lack of self-control or follow-through or discipline. That's your brain chasing a neurochemical that doesn't come easy, using the most efficient tool it has: intensity.

The Pac-Man problem

Think of it like a Pac-Man level.

You've been wandering those corridors for a while - eating dots, doing okay, nothing special. And then you find the power pellet.

You know what a power pellet does. Everything lights up. The ghosts become edible. You're not just surviving the level anymore - you're dominating it. And your brain, having been starved of that sensation, is going to eat every ghost on the screen and chase every dot down every corridor until the level is completely cleared, because when you have the power, you use the power.

That's hyperfocus. That's the special interest spiral. That's the playlist on repeat at 1 a.m. That's three seasons in one weekend.

The problem isn't that you used the power pellet. The problem is that power pellets don't last. The level always ends. The dopamine spike always normalizes. And then you're just Pac-Man again - back to baseline, vaguely sad about Miley, inexplicably unable to walk into a Chipotle.

The "hyperfocus hangover" is real. So is the mild identity crisis that follows when the thing that lit you up - the thing you were, for a while - suddenly just doesn't anymore.

What helps (a little)

I'm not going to tell you there's a cure for this, because there isn't. This is how your nervous system is built. What there is, instead, is understanding and understanding does something important. It interrupts the shame spiral.

When you know this is a cycle, not a character flaw, you stop adding a layer of self-judgment on top of an already uncomfortable experience. You stop diagnosing yourself with some personal failing every time a hyperfocus ends. You start recognizing the pattern for what it is: oh, I'm in the hangover phase. I've been here before. I'll come out the other side.

A few things that actually help:

Naming the phase. "I'm in hyperfocus" and "I'm in the hangover" are both useful things to know about yourself in real time. Awareness doesn't stop the cycle, but it makes it less disorienting.

Not forcing the thing. The hyperfocus ending doesn't mean you failed at the thing. It means your brain's dopamine response to that particular stimulus has normalized. That's biology, not biography.

Trusting that the next power pellet exists. You cannot see it yet, and that's genuinely uncomfortable. But your history is full of evidence that it shows up. It always shows up.

Not explaining yourself. You don't owe anyone an account of why you ate at Chipotle every day for four months and now cannot enter the building. Some things are just neuroscience, and neuroscience doesn't require an apology.

You're not alone in this

I've worked with enough neurodivergent adults, and have been one long enough, to know that this particular flavor of experience can feel very isolating. It doesn't look like the ADHD people see in the movies. It doesn't look like struggle, from the outside. It looks like enthusiasm, then absence. Passion, then inexplicable indifference.

It looks, sometimes, like you can't be trusted with good things.

You can. You just experience good things at a higher intensity and a faster throughput than most people are built for. This is not something lacking or missing. It's a different relationship with time and pleasure and meaning - one that comes with genuine gifts and genuine costs, like most things that matter.

We've all ruined a song. Some of us are ruining one right now.

You're in good company.

What's the thing your nervous system is currently consuming at an unsustainable rate? I'm collecting data and also I just want to feel less alone about the Miley thing. Tell me in the comments.

And if the hyperfocus-to-crash cycle is running your life more than you'd like - your schedule, your relationships, your very impressive collection of unfinished projects - that's something we can actually work on together in coaching. I work with late-diagnosed and self-identified neurodivergent adults who are tired of white-knuckling a life that wasn't designed for their nervous system. Set up a free consulation to see if we are a fit

Keywords: ADHD hyperfocus, neurodivergent burnout, dopamine dysregulation, ADHD burnout cycle, autistic hyperfocus, AuDHD lived experience, ADHD shame, neurodivergent self-compassion, hyperfocus hangover, ADHD interest cycle, dopamine seeking ADHD, late diagnosed ADHD, neurodivergent coaching, ADHD emotional regulation, special interests autism, ADHD executive function