I've been part of the community for a few weeks, but I haven't shared my story until now.

I remember the exact day my MDD began. I was eight, in the third grade. I was a lonely child, one of maybe five white kids at my school, and would frequently find myself alone on the playground. Even though I had a warm, loving family life, it was rough to feel so ostracized five days a week. Then, like a bolt of lightning, I realized that I could create my own friends. I imagined up a character and gleefully went to play on the swings with him. I can't even describe the huge sense of freedom and lightness in that moment. I felt that all of a sudden, I never had to be alone again.

Other characters quickly followed. Before long, I had a core cast of five imagined playmates. But it was more than simply a child with imaginary friends. While I sat in class, I would fantasize about what they were doing at their house, which I pictured so vividly that I can still practically see it 20 years later.

This fantasy remained stable until I was thirteen. I was deeply ashamed, and felt that something must be seriously wrong with me. Normal people did not do this. I vowed that I would never, ever tell anyone. My mother freaked out when I was immersed in novels - I didn't even want to think about what would happen if I told her about my fantasy life.

I was a young teen when my cycle of fantasies came to an abrupt end. My MDD had drifted back and forth in intensity the past year or so. I had just decided to get into it again, really immerse myself so I could bask in the feelings of friendship and love it created. I planned to start in earnest the next day - which was September 11th. In the horror of watching those images, I made an uneasy connection between my MDD and the terrorist attack. I was too frightened to start up daydreaming again for years.

I didn't pick it up again until I moved away to college, when I found myself alone in a dorm room. I had never had my own room before, and I felt lonesome and sometimes frightened. I created a fantasy about having two younger sisters, sixteen and fourteen, who I had full custody of. My daydreams about caring for them and all the fun we had helped soothe me through those first months of independence. I actually made great friends in college, and on the whole had an awesome experience.

After college, I experienced mounting obsessive-compulsive symptoms. I was about 22 at the time. The intrusive thoughts grew so regular and horrible, I didn't know what to do. It got to where I could barely eat - I didn't feel like there was any point, because the thoughts spinning through my head were so horrible that I was certain I was damned. After a tearful confession to a sympathetic relative, I visited a psychologist and was officially diagnosed with OCD. I was on a low dose of Prozac for the first few months. I read everything I could about the disorder, and as my guilt fell away, my symptoms lessened. I went off the meds with no negative side effects. Now my life is relatively normal and I have few moments where OCD presents a problem. The connections between OCD and MDD fascinate me.

I met a wonderful man, fell in love, and got married. Sometimes his schedule calls for working nights, and then I daydream for company.

I'm glad to be here with all of you, and see that I was never as alone as I thought.

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Welcome to Wild Minds! :-)

I have a similar story. My MD started when I was 7. Mine also started because I was lonely.

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