Last night I confessed my daydreaming to my boyfriend in a roundabout way. Well actually it was 'as they say' like a confession dressed as a truth, wrapped up in an enigma, or something like that...



So I was offered my old job back and the money would be nice but not essential and he has commented recently on how happy I am away from that woman! We talked some more about money and what i actually do all day. I confessed I am writing a novel and he eventually coaxed the plot / theme…

It's not that I don't like her music - I love her music. It's just it's seriously interrupting part one of my novel and if I am going to do this thing, compulsive daydreaming that is, I am sure as hell going to get something productive out of it in the process like learning to write fiction.

On the other hand Adele will be artist of choice as soon as I hit part two.

Actually escaping bullying at work my real life misery i  have been able to go back to how i feel  when compulsive daydreaming was an advantage a creative tool not a way to block out misery.

It started in early childhood aged about 6 but I remember a specifically slipping into a deeper more involved version one day watching a children’s drama aged 8, everything since then has just evolved – beyond recognition. There was certainly my fair share of trauma in my family during these early years, My dad was mentally ill, my mum lived with a burden heavier than her young years should have had to handle. I had at the time no brothers or sisters and only one friend.

She fostered…

Frustrated and unable to sleep I climbed out of bed; my fantasy world was keeping me awake again, nothing new. I went downstairs to use the laptop as not to disturbed my sleeping boyfriend. I almost laughed to myself as I typed into Google ‘addiction to daydreaming’.

The fantasy realm has always been my other world but this was honestly the first time I coherently thought of it as an addiction and even then half in jest, yet I know in my mind I cannot stop, it is to me a compulsion…