I mentioned this as a comment on someone else's blog.  Daydreaming is strangling the life out of my creativity.  I paint, I draw, I write, I cook, and I even used to sculpt.  The stories I write are so different from the daydreams I create.  The former is art (I'd like to think); the latter is soap opera.  It's junk food.  And when all you eat is junk food, all you crave is junk food.  You lose your energy, you become sluggish, you know you need to eat some asparagus, but instead you devour…

I think I could quit this whole daydreaming thing.  I've quit it before.  Well, sort of.  I had one foot in the wagon and one off, and performed awkward jumping jacks in that position.   



But I'm scared.  



There are three poles in my existence, and I pinball from one to the other: anxiety, depression, and daydreams. Anxiety scares me out of the daydreams.  Sometimes the anxiety feels like a savior, because it feels good to care about other people. 



But right…

[Hey.  New here.  Below, is a vent.  Thanks for reading my vent.]



I want to stop living in my head, I told my friend, even if that means having to cut out music, television, and whatever else triggers these fictional worlds.  My friend encouraged me.  



With things inside my head less interesting, I'd be forced to make my real-life more interesting, I reasoned.  I decided to try getting involved in activities that my fictional characters became involved in.  One…