Where wild minds come to rest
First, sorry for all the blog posts. I've been visiting family all this week in a very cold and snowy climate and I've probably had far too much free time on my hands (with no privacy to daydream!) . During this sudden free time, I've been feeling reflective about my dreaming and wanting to document and share my thoughts.
My daydreaming has often involved scenes in which I am defending myself and fighting against a, “bad guy.” When I was about 12 or 13 years old, I was heavily engaged in one of these fighting scenes. I remember pacing around my room, kicking and punching. I could no longer, “see,” my bedroom as I was fully emerged in the fantasy.
During the fight scene, I mistakenly kicked my mother’s word processor that was on my floor, causing it damage. This immediately took me out of the daydream and I had another moment of, “What am I doing? Has this gotten out of hand? What is wrong with me?”
I remember experiencing a great amount of anxiety about how I would possibly explain the broken word processor to my mom. I kicked it. I broke it.
What could I tell my Mother? “Mom, I was pretending to fight somebody in self defense and I mistook the word processor for the bad guy?” Who would believe that story? I was a teenager, not a young child.
When my mother asked what happened to the world processor, I lied and told her that I didn’t know.
I couldn’t tell the truth because I didn’t understand what the truth was.
I felt isolated and lonely with my behavior.
I felt guilty about lying.
I felt bad that I broke the processor.
and I feared that I might be going crazy.