On Distractions and Obsessions

I’ve noticed that when I begin to feel overwhelmed by necessary tasks, rather than pressing on to complete one, my mind gains an aversion to the activities and seems to shut down, convinced it is no longer capable of contemplating what it should; it latches instead onto any pleasant distraction—an idle daydream, lolcats, or blog posts.  I may feel the irresistible urge for a nap, or perhaps I’ll struggle to get the plot of the book or tv show out of my head and want to resume it.  I may fixate on another task that I want done but that is less urgent (one which may, under other circumstances, feel almost as unpleasant as the current task I’m avoiding).  Even a conscious guilt or desire to accomplish something useful cannot overcome such distractibility at its most determined height.

Other times, I almost wish I could be completely distracted from an activity that has grabbed my attention and refuses to let go—whether reading a story too late at night or working on a useless project—or even working on a useful project that I insist on tackling at an inopportune time.  

For instance, one Friday after work and dinner, I settled in with music and a medical mask to clean my house for company.  I scrubbed for at least three hours at my moldy walls, dirt-caked window sill, and grimy tub till my knuckles cracked, my knees earned semi-permanent red spots, and my back felt painful to straighten.  Yet instead of stopping, I felt compelled to wipe down my blinds and properly polish my woodwork—which for my piano required a great deal of time since the numerous dry dustings it’s received over the years had naturally failed to remove the dull, grey patina of skin oil and grime.

At length, I persuaded myself into the shower (to clean myself instead of the tiles), but instead of sensibly sinking into bed afterward to rest my aching arms and fingers (it was already past midnight), I spent another two hours practicing piano, organizing, neatening, and cleaning dishes and the entryway.  I had murdered at least 10 spiders before I finally crawled into bed around 3 a.m., less than ten minutes before Joel got home from gaming.  (Yes, the spiders and weariness and loneliness may have contributed to my cleaning obsession.)  

How interesting that the mind can become so totally distracted that it will not heed one’s desire to concentrate—or so totally obsessed that it will not heed one’s desire to stop.  I’ve noticed that both seem to occur more frequently when the mind is tired and less able to control the half-conscious and subconscious thoughts that motivate such extremes.  Indeed—during both, one feels incapable of redirecting one’s own mind back to its desired course.  One’s distraction or obsession only derails after the influence of external intervention or the interruption of basic bodily functions such as eating, sleeping, and relieving oneself. 

I’m sure others have suffered one or both states of mind.  What’s it like for you?  What makes those internal thoughts so hard to redirect?  How can one redirect oneself successfully without the help of a fortuitous external interruption?  I’ll be interested to read your thoughts.