Maladaptive Daydreaming: where wild minds come to rest
I joined a few months ago, but this is the first time that I am posting. I am 38 years old and I have been daydreaming as far as I remember. My earliest memory of daydreaming is 4 years old day. At that time my characters were my dolls. I would twirl around while listening to music (something I still do today) while imagining them singing or dancing. My characters evolved from dolls, to my classmates from 6 - 14, to unique characters who have stayed with me from 14 until today.
The ages have changed, but their names and life stories remain the same. They are wealthy entertainers (actors, musicians, socialites) who live glamorously.
I am black; however, most of my characters are white from the countryside of England and France. One of my characters is a black woman who was a model and singer from New York City (her name is Lana) who enters their world and grows as part of higher society.
Everyone is wealthy, power players.
I feel ashamed because of the self hatred demonstrated from 1.) having the majority of my characters be white and 2.) not being involved in any of my daydreams.
In my day dreams from childhood until today. I do not exist. I live through a couple of the main female characters (Lana and Vicki) who I have created. They are fashionable, feisty, divas who take control. All the things I am afraid to be or have not been allowed to be.
In real life, I am imprisoned by having to be heavily relied upon from my mother, my sister, my co-workers and my boss. Just today, my mother calls frantically because my niece couldn't find a bus because of a parade in our city. This isn't this first time. Every time my mother feels worried, she calls me to help her and makes me feel guilty by saying this like "they don't have anyone else" or "anything can happen did you hear about X who was murdered". If I don't call her when I get home, she gets upset saying that there is so much going on and that I could be dead out there and since I have no friends, she doesn't have no one to call upon so she must frantically call me.
Because of the fears she has instilled in me, I am still a virgin. I have never been kissed. I still feel like I'm 13. It's awful.
Therefore, I live the lives of the feisty women in my daydreams because they are independent and don't have hovering mothers who are killing them each day.
I have shared this with my therapist and still don't know how to tell my mother how I feel. I really want to be Lana and Vicki. I really want to be like them. Somewhere deep inside, I am like them. I am not the shy woman people see, but I feel limited from being myself. Always have.
I know this was a lot and it's a bit all over the place, but I felt it's time to let it out.
Thank you for sharing your story. I haven't had time yet to introduce myself, but I have had this problem for 40 years and somehow I managed to have a successful life (good job, loving wife, etc), even though there were times where I came pretty close to really falling apart. So there is hope for you if you are willing to make some changes for yourself.