Maladaptive Daydreaming: where wild minds come to rest
I never really saw my daydreaming as a problem, per se. This has always been my sordid secret. Sometimes I'm not where my body is, that's the most I've every admitted to what I do. My husband doesn't even know, and we are so close.
Out of curiousity, and perhaps a bit of obsessive studying, I just googled about my fantasies and was brought to a phrase: maladaptive daydreaming. Now I can be a tad phobic about medical conditions, but this was the first time I ever had something match me so perfectly. No, I'm not diagnosed by a psychiatrist, although I have thought about seeing one on occasion. But I think one can agree you don't necessarily need a doctor to confirm something like this.
A quick second search landed me here. In any of my fantasies could I ever guess so many were just like me. I've read many posts by people here, and I am taken aback of how freely the disccussions on this secret I've desperately kept for so many years flow.
Well, enough waxing prose and on to why I'm posting. I want for the first time to talk about by fantasies, and despite the anonymity of the internet I feel the sinking pit of anxiety in my core.
I have been escaping into elaborate fantasies since I can really remember. Now that I really think about it, this really didn't get too ingrossing until after a particular trama I experienced. I don't know whether such things can trigger it, or if it's because I didn't have anyone close to my age to play with. Whatever the reason is inconsequential at the moment. Admitting to the problem should come first.
In youth, usually these dreams involved tv shows or movies, perhaps books, and I would pretty much continue the stories I felt weren't ended right. As I got older, I began to filter those direct influences out and come up with my own. I learned how to channel them in school from awkward talking to myself to art and graphic novels. Now at the age of 26, my fantasies are of my own design, down to the lands, the laws, the rules of life, and cultures. Really helps with the writing career I'm trying to start.
Despite the good I've gotten from being this way, I also have so many things that if it didn't caused, it surely did not help. I'm awkward with talking to real people, especially at first. I may get pity-invited to places like parties, but I invariably just stand at the outskirts and watch. I'll actually leave company for a moment and "take a break" in the bathroom to dream for a minute or two. Now that I am a mother and away from home to look for a job, I don't have as much time to indulge in this, and I find myself getting angry over it. Wow, it really does sound like an addiction, doesn't it?
Ok, I think I'll stop here. I feel a bit sick doing this, but maybe it's time I come clean.