From the Archives: When Passion Turns into Time Waste

A year ago, I answered this writing prompt honestly: How do you waste the most time every day?

At the time, my answer was writing.

Which sounds strange because writing is also one of the things that makes me feel the most like myself.

But I think that’s why this question stuck with me. Sometimes the things that bring us the most joy can also be the things we struggle to balance. Something can be meaningful and still become something we lose ourselves in.

I wanted to revisit this post because I think I’m still learning the same lesson: finding a balance between the parts of myself that light me up and remembering to take care of the person behind the passion.

Originally published on 06/22/2025

How Do You Waste the Most Time Every Day?

Let me rephrase this question: Is it really wasting time if you’re completely absorbed in something you love—but everything else gets neglected in the process? That’s the tug-of-war that I live with almost daily.

I waste most of my time writing and working on my blog. I know that sounds contradictory because writing is how I express myself and process the world and feel most like myself. But when I say waste, I don’t mean the act of writing itself. I mean how easily I lose track of time, self-care, and reality while doing it.

As a neurodivergent person, I tend to hyperfixate. When something sparks my interest, I become consumed by it. My mind locks in and the rest of the world slowly fades into the background.

If I get pulled away from that hyper-focus, especially in the middle of a thought, it’s like someone yanked a cord out of my brain. I become irritable, anxious, frustrated, and a bit lost if I’m being quite honest. The switch from flow to disruption is harsh. It’s extremely difficult to get back into the swing of things again, no matter how hard I try.

Sometimes it’s writing. Other times, it’s reading. Sometimes it’s researching random topics at 1 a.m. or organizing my room like it holds the key to inner peace. That fixation shifts, but the feeling remains the same.

Total immersion.

And then guilt.

Because while I’m meandering in these rabbit holes, the rest of my life doesn’t just stop. I still have basic necessities I need to take care of.

It’s not that I want to ignore everything else. I just get really stuck. And the strangest part is that’s hard to explain to others.

This isn’t laziness or escapism.

This is how my brain finds calm.

It’s how I cope with overstimulation, anxiety, and emotional chaos.

Still, I’m learning that focus, no matter how passionate, can become unhealthy if it swallows me whole.

Lately, I’ve been trying to create some boundaries with my time. Nothing rigid because structure can sometimes feel suffocating to me, but more soft reminders like pausing and stepping outside when my body aches. I know I can always come back to the task whenever I want to.

I’m not always great at it.

Some days, I still disappear into my obsessions and emerge foggy and overstimulated.

But the point is that I’m trying.

Reflection Now

Reading this a year later, I actually think my reflection is still pretty much the same.

I still blog.

I still write whenever I can.

I still disappear into ideas, get excited about something, and look up hours later wondering where the time went.

And honestly, I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.

Writing is my happy place. It has always been one of the places where I feel the most like myself. It’s where I can sort through my thoughts, process what I’m feeling, and make sense of things. It gives me a way to express things I sometimes don’t know how to say out loud.

So I don’t really believe it’s a waste of time when you’re doing something you love.

I think the difference is learning when something is bringing you joy versus when you’re disappearing into it so much that you forget about everything else.

And I still do that sometimes. I still get caught up in writing or creating and realize I’ve been sitting in the same spot for hours. I still have moments where I forget to take a break, drink water, eat something, or step away because my brain is so focused on what I’m doing.

The same part of me that gets lost in my interests is also the part of me that creates, imagines, and connects with people. It’s the part of me that keeps me curious and helps me turn my thoughts into something meaningful.

And honestly, I don’t want to lose that part of myself.

I just want to learn how to take care of myself while still allowing myself to love the things that make me happy.

The thing I’m realizing is that I don’t actually want to become someone who doesn’t get excited about things. I don’t want to lose the part of me that gets completely absorbed in a story, an idea, or a creative project.

I just want to remember that I’m a person outside of those things too.

I can love writing and still step away from the computer. I can love creating and still take care of myself. And I can have passions that bring me joy without feeling like I have to apologize for how much they matter to me.

Not either/or.

Both.

“You do not just wake up and become the butterfly. Growth is a process.”— rupi kaur