Crazy blog story, part 1

[Cordellia Amethyste Rose]

Ok, so for my next story for class, I thought I'd try and write the blog of the person in my first story, Miles.  It's basically her chronicling her descent into madness as her sensitivities take over.  I have NO idea if it's good or completely boring.  Does anyone actually want to read this?  It's largely biographical, so I'm even more connected to it and even less aware of whether people want to read my boring issues.  It's not nearly done.  I just thought I'd post what I have so far in case anyone's bored enough to read and give me feedback.  It doesn't have a title yet.

 

Here goes:

 

May 3rd, 3:54am

Good morning.  It’s morning.  It’s not a time I should be awake, but I am awake.  I slept for only 1 hour and about 42 mins yesterday, give or take 10 mins.  That is not enough time for me.  That was yesterday……….not the yesterday as in before midnight, I mean the last time I was in bed.  You know what I mean.  I mean I haven’t slept in over a day.  I’m not making sense, but I am making sense.  I haven’t slept.  I need to sleep.  It’s a problem, and now that I’m awake, there’s one thing that’s bothering me horribly.  There are too many damned mirrors in my apartment!  I can’t stand all the mirrors.  Do you ever realize how many mirrors there are everywhere?  They’re everywhere.  I can’t cover them up because my body just aches.  I’m so tired, and I feel so sick.  The drugs aren’t working, and I don’t feel well.  I need to sleep, and now all I can see are mirrors.  Think about this.  The windows are mirrors.  We cover them up, but there are always bits that peak through.  If you have curtains, you can see mirrors on the sides and in between.  If you have blinds, then there are seemingly infinite mirrors.  Every slit has mirrors.  They’re in between and all around.  Looking around my desk, I see plenty of mirrors, which begs the question as to why I am at my desk. Shut up.  I ask the questions, except when I am not.  I am blogging.  Let me.  I have to get all this out since I have to be awake.  If I don’t, I’ll just lie in bed going on and on about this to myself.  I may as well inform you all of my random musings, and besides this all makes wonderful sense.  If it weren’t so horribly frightening, it would be beautiful.  There are mirrors on the door handles of my refrigerator.  There are mirrors in the shiny books on my book shelves.  The light from my night light catches them just right, and I can just faintly see myself as I sit here.  I can’t see myself well, but you get the point.  It’s like I’m in some fun house in a way.  My body aches, and for some reason tonight I am sensitive to all the mirrors that are around me.  I want to cry.  I want to sleep.  I will take another ¼ of a Trazodone and try to sleep.  I’m not encouraged, but one can hope.  This now makes roughly 37.5mg of Trazodone on top of my other meds.  That’s not a lot, but I need to keep track as this will likely keep increasing.  Goodnight again. 

 

May 3^rd 1:47pm

I am fine.  I slept.  I am fine.  No, I’m not psychotic.  Are you?  Congratulations.  I am fine.  You are fine as long as you don’t keep suggesting idiotic things to me.  Then I make no promises. 

 

May 16^th 3:02pm

I heard a song on the radio, and it sent me into a daydream.  It had such an eerie quality to it….  It made me shiver and tremble just a little.  It reminded me of Kevin.  He’s my main character’s stalker in my daydream world.  I have a whole world of characters that I’ve had since I was a kid.  It’s hard to talk about, but I’m going to try.  It’s so full and magical.  It’s so much more real than the outside world to me.  If I don’t get it out, then my outside world will just keep being as empty as it is.  Reality is so dull. 

I won’t say what my main character’s name is.  Everyone calls her Baby anyway.  They’ve been nurturing and in a way coddling her since she was little.  She needed that.  She met Kevin when she was 13.  He was taller and very handsome.  He had dark brown hair and dull green eyes.  His skin was olive.  He was completely mesmerized by her from day 1.  She was so sad and emotional.  She needed everyone to love her.  His attention was so validating.  I wish I could say it lasted.  Soon, while working at the theater, she made some real friends.  Laura had been mentoring her since she was 9, but she needed some real friends her own age.  When she finally got some, Kevin started to become more and more possessive.  He was wildly jealous and would grill her about everywhere she’d been whenever she’d been away for more than a week.  She hated letting a friend go, especially when she was so desperate to have any in the first place, but after he beat her up, she had to.  Laura made her stop seeing him.  Then he just started stalking her.  Now she’s 22 and married with a kid of her own.  She lives in France with her family, but every time she comes back, he finds her.  He follows her in his car and holds up a knife and kisses it.  She can see it in her rear view mirror.  She has a restraining order, of course, but that only does so much.  He’s tried to kidnap her a few times, and he did cut the side of her neck once awhile back.  It’s been years, though.  All he does is show up and make sure she sees him with a knife.  He always shows up. 

Anyway, that should catch you up enough.  You get the idea.  Baby’s living in France, and Kevin has an apartment somewhere in the town they grew up in.  He has a needy mother who’s sort of fallen apart since things started getting weird with him.  He has an older sister named Kirsten.  His mother outwardly blames Baby for all his behavior though on the inside she knows the truth.  His father believes Baby and feels terrible.  He knows what’s going on.  Today, I kept replaying a fight Kevin was having with his mother.  She found a few pocket knives in his jacket pockets and got really scared.  If only she knew.  He’s killing women and transforming their bodies to look like Baby in his spare time.  If she knew, it would kill her.  I don’t have the stomach to imagine the pain she would feel, so she’ll have to live in fear for now.  In this case, living in fear is really better than the truth.  Someday, this whole situation will have to blow up.  Someday, it’ll all come to a big, bloody end.  I shudder to think. 

I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it.  I mean I know I will, but it’s just crazy how my mind can live like this.  I’ve been living like this all my life.  I don’t even know how to describe it.  Baby isn’t just a character I’ve made up.  She’s me.  She’s my only identity.  I sit here in my room, all day, barely getting out in the real world, and every minute I imagine her living.  It’s like she’s the real person, and I’m the figment of her imagination.  I go about my day, daydreaming of her and what she’s doing.  I can’t pay attention to what I’m doing and have to write notes all the time to remind myself of what I have to do, how to do it, and what not to do that I did last time.  I walk around in a complete daze.  It’s my life.  This is Maladaptive Daydreaming.  It’s life completely on the inside with no way to get out. 

Music isn’t normally a trigger for me, but today it was.  I kept replaying the scenario with Kevin at his mother’s house for coffee.  He was getting coffee in the kitchen when she, for some stupid reason, went through his pockets and found the knives.  I don’t think she noticed the tiny spot of blood on one of them.  It could’ve been covered in blood, and she wouldn’t have noticed.  She brought the knives to his attention and cried about how she was scared about how she’s losing him.  That’s all she can bother to say to him.  He didn’t care and just wanted her to shut up and tell him where the sugar was.  This conversation probably happened about 6 times in my mind as I found that song and replayed it. 

 

May 29^th 6:40pm

Some of you have written and asked me a few questions.  Here goes.

Maladaptive Daydreaming is an addiction to daydreaming.  Everyone daydreams.  This is not normal daydreaming, and it is definitely not depression.  People with Maladaptive Daydreaming don’t often start out depressed.  They get depressed after they realize how much they’ve been daydreaming and not interacting with the “real” world.  Often people with Maladaptive Daydreaming will have an idealized version of themselves as a central character.  Often they will go on daydreaming binges that can last for hours up to weeks.  It can get really severe.  Most thought it was harmless and a wonderful escape at first.  When you wake up, and you’re 30, and you can’t tolerate the real world, it doesn’t seem so harmless.  People with Maladaptive Daydreaming are often very smart and wildly creative.  They get addicted to their own creativity.  Do not look down upon them as sick or diseased, or you will face my wrath.  I will not accept being treated like a sick person.

Also, Kevin has killed about 15 people to date.  Yes, it’s serious.  No, I’m not psychotic.  This all sort of just happened.  Baby was making new friends, and I didn’t know what to do with the Kevin character.  I was young at the time and couldn’t just pretend he didn’t exist, so he sorta went crazy.  That just escalated until he became a serial killer years later.  I know it sounds weird, but it just sorta happened.  Kevin’s parents are Carolyn and Ed.  I don’t know why you care, but it’s fine.  That’s not a secret. 

 

June 2^nd 11:40am

Good morning!  Today, I woke up at 7am and replayed a scenario with Baby and her husband for about 2h.  They were having a great conversation, and I just wanted to have it over and over again.  It was too intoxicating. 

 

June 5^th 7:10pm

Why do people make certain sounds?  WHY?  I tried to eat lunch in the mall today, and some lady was eating like she was eating from an effing trough.  I t was so disgusting.  Why are people not ashamed of such abhorrent behavior?  Why do they sit there and smack and smack and smack like that?  Do they really not hear it?  Why is this socially acceptable?  I was trying to sit there in peace and eat my lunch, but all I wanted to do was cover my ears and scream.  I have to press on my ears every time I hear such a horrific sound.  She kept looking at me like I was crazy.  I’M  crazy?  She’s sitting there like a pig, sloughing food into her mouth and smacking, and I’m the crazy one?  Do not look at us like we’re mad, people.  I may be sensitive, but that doesn’t make your behavior any more becoming! 

 

June 8^th 11:05am

This morning in my daydream world, Baby and her husband spoke at length about a movie they’re thinking of writing together.  They’re both really inspired.  Baby went out in the sun and fainted.  She kept breathing heavily all afternoon after they revived her.  She’s been having this periodically for years.  I wonder if she has some rare disease.  I think I might kill off David.  He’s her best friend in the world, but he’s afraid to fly, so he’ll never go visit them in France.  It’s going to be hard to maintain that character. 

 

June 12^th 4:02pm

Why is it always so sunny?  Why do we have to have spring and summer?  It’s 72 degrees outside, so warm and stifling.  My hair is like a thick blanket.  It suffocates me.  The sun is so bright.  It feels like I’m under a magnifying glass.  I can’t handle the sensation on my skin.  It feels so uncomfortable.  I need a nice, gray day, so I can breathe.  I need to be able to walk around and feel okay. 

 

June 20^th 4:13am

I’ve been in bed since 11:16, and I still can’t sleep.  I hate these nights.  My body aches.  My eyes feel strange.  I hardly slept last night either.  I feel so weird all over.  I keep seeing things twitch just outside my line of vision.  I keep thinking someone’s there.  I whip my head around, but no one’s there.  I know no one’s there.  I have no reason to think anyone is there, but how can I see a twitch and not investigate?  I don’t think my eyes are twitching.  I don’t know what’s going on.  I just hurt.  I just want to sleep.  I can’t even daydream.  I can’t even cry.  All I do in bed is shake and convulse.  I toss back and forth, and my body just hurts.  I’ve tried sleeping with the night light on and off.  I tried switching directions in bed, but it’s no use.  I just feel so strange now.  It’s too late for me to get to sleep.  I’m going to feel like this all day.  Once the sun comes up, it’s all over.  I can never sleep after daybreak. 

 

June 25^th 5:07pm

It’s another long summer day, and I’m so tired of hiding in doors, waiting for the sun to go down.  I hate the summer.  I start dreading in starting in February.  I can’t stand feeling sun light on my skin.  It’s one of my many sensitivities which are just unbearable.  What can a person do?  My hair is so thick that it feels like I’m suffocating the instant I get outside.  I can’t stand the feel of wind either.  I’m always turning my head to catch the wind on my face.  Just when I find the right way to turn, it shifts and blows my hair across my face.  I can’t handle that feeling.  I wish the wind wouldn’t shift so much, but even if that were the case, it wouldn’t be any use unless wherever I needed to go happened to be against the wind.  I would arrange that if I could.  I try to wait to go outside until the sun goes down sufficiently.  Sunset is the worst time.  The sun that was hard overhead shines directly in your eyes.  I can’t handle it.  I won’t walk in the sun if I can help it.  I miss the winter.  I miss being able to walk around in the cool air.  I only go out when I have to, to buy groceries.  I don’t like hiding indoors so much.  I feel so trapped, just waiting in my room in this old house.  I may have to start shopping online. 

 

June 29^th 3:25pm

Sleep………….lack of sleep…………..has kept me indoors.  I am indoors today.  I will stay indoors for the third day in a row.  I don’t like staying indoors that long.  I’ve slept a few hours over the past few days.  It’s kept me so sick.  My body has been aching and shaking for the past.  My eyes feel strange, and my head aches.  I feel like my mind is not where it should be.  I can’t explain it.  It’s not the daydreaming.  With the daydreaming, I’m aware of the two different realities, even if the outer one is less real to me personally.  With the lack of sleep…….reality becomes fuzzy.  I can’t even daydream.  I feel too sick.  I’m going to stop taking the drugs.  They’re not working. 

 

July 4^th 11:48pm

Why is this country so in love with horribly loud, sharp noises?  I forgot what day it was and ventured out to get some iced coffee.  BAD idea.  People are everywhere, rudely cutting you off as you pass and taking up the whole sidewalk as they walk down the street.  I can’t stand people.  I loathe them.  They’re so loud and chatty.  The girls squeak at the top of their lungs while they walk around wearing next to nothing.  I just wanted my coffee.  I don’t want loud bangs and sharp clicks.  I don’t want squeaks and honks and revving of engines.  Why do people find themselves so impressive when they show off like that?  It’s not impressive.  It doesn’t take a lot of skill to rev an engine.  One would think the invention of the cell phone would make it no longer necessary to scream at a person across a square.  Does this not seem like a waste of energy?  Plus, it’s sunny still.  It’s warm.  It was 82 degrees today.  My skin is sticky all over.  I’ve taken 3 showers today and will probably take another.  I can’t handle this.  Make the noises stop.  This doesn’t count all the festive booming of loud, and I imagine dangerous, fireworks.  Why doesn’t someone just make a nice, quiet, digital display?  What’s the good of all this technology if no one uses it?

 

July 5^th 8:42am

There’s no treatment, because I’m not sick!  Stop asking me about my “disorder”.  I don’t have a disorder.  I’m sensitive.  That doesn’t make me wrong.  You’re all wrong.  Ignorance is the sickness.  You’re all incurable. 

 

July 10^th 6:28pm

This house is so dark and dreary.  There are windows downstairs, but they don’t let in much light.  I keep the drapes closed because I don’t like people being able to watch me from the street.  I don’t go downstairs much.  The kitchen floor is old and always feels dirty to me.  The maid came today and cleaned out all the dust.  She can’t get all the bugs though.  I imagine there are bugs everywhere, under the floor, everywhere I walk.  Sometimes I hop around to minimize contact.  The room with the most light is my own bedroom.  I only go downstairs to eat a snack or check the locks a few times.  There are 5 bolts, each of which must be checked every time I get up or it occurs to me.  I don’t know that I actually believe that they’re unlocked, but I have to check.  What if the one time I didn’t check, there was 1 unlocked?  I can’t risk it, and it takes much less time to check it than to try and push out that persistent thought.  Today for dinner I had crackers and a small bowl of olives, not together of course.  The delivery man came with my sparkling water.  I’m so glad I don’t have to go to the store anymore.  I’m glad I can live on my own, in my little cave.  I’m getting used to being confined in here.  It’s much better than being outside with all the irritants.  I really can’t handle people.  Plus, I’m often so sick that I’m never sure exactly how I’m acting.  I’m never sure if I feel quite normal or not.  I probably don’t.  My mind………….it’s hard to say if it’s feeling right or not.  Funny, you’d think that having an addiction to daydreaming would blur my reality, but it doesn’t in the least.  I wish I felt well enough to daydream more.  When I feel sick, all I can do is lie around or pace the floors and feel sick. 

 

August 1^st 9:45pm

David died today.  I’ve had this dreadful feeling that something bad was going to happen to him.  I guess it’s because of the distance.  Since Baby’s been living in France, and he’s afraid to fly, it was only a matter of time until they grew apart.  He’s her best friend, though, and I can’t bear for them to grow apart.  She found his sister for God’s sake!  She found his sister who had been kidnapped and reunited his whole family.  They can’t grow apart!  They can’t!  No, something else had to happen.  I just wasn’t including him in my daydreams as much.  I wasn’t focusing on him like I would need to.  He grew up, wandered seemingly aimlessly through life, and even got married.  Everyone joked that they knew she was the one when he said she owned a book store.  Maybe that’s why they married after only a few months, because I knew somehow my inspiration was dwindling.  I was losing my love for poor David.  Poor, saintly David who rescued Baby from Kevin so many times.  Whenever Kevin would show up with a knife, so would David with only his bare hands.  He would rescue her.  He was always there.  Today, after months of my dwindling interest, he got into a plane crash.  He, Baby, and Frederick were on a weekend trip to NY.  It was wonderful.  They saw a concert, took in a few Broadway shows, and also had time to just lounge around their hotel room talking.  They talked and talked.  They were there for 3 nights and were supposed to stay another, but Baby was missing her little baby and flew home a night early.  It’s funny because they all had tickets for the flight that went down.  Baby didn’t take it because she flew home early.  Frederick and David stayed the other night.  Then, on the way to the airport, Frederick spotted a shop he’d meant to buy something for his wife in.  He had to get out of the cab.  David was adamant that they not miss their flight.  Frederick said to go on ahead, and he’d catch up with him later.  Well, in the end, Frederick missed the flight, and David didn’t.  He knew the plane was having mechanical trouble.  He knew things weren’t looking good.  He called his wife, but she wasn’t home.  Naturally, the next person he called was Baby.  She was on the phone with him when the plane went down.  …..and that was it.  David’s gone.  Frederick called later and apologized for missing his flight.  Then, they had to tell him.  3 people were supposed to be on that flight.  Love got 2 of them off the plane.  Love killed the 3^rd.  David had wanted to rush home to his wife.  It’s funny the different paths that love can take us on.  Love can save, or love can kill. 
I’ve been replaying this scenario all day long, and I’m so exhausted.  What an emotional daydream to have.  I’ll probably replay this one hundreds of times, each time a little different.  I’ll forget some details and add new ones.  This scenario is going to hold me for years. 

 

August 18^th 11:43am

Didn’t sleep much last night.  Body aching.  Head hurts.  Can’t stop daydreaming about Kevin, try as I might to focus on something more positive.  When I feel weird, I daydream weird.  I tried replaying some happier story lines, but they’re boring when I feel bad.  I need to be able to feel what my characters feel, and I just can’t.  Have been lying around all morning in pain, thinking of Kevin stalking a new woman who looks like Baby.  He’s going to kill her once he gets her alone. 

 

September 12^th 4:50pm

Last night I kept hearing a knocking sound.  I still hear it, now and then.  I have no idea what it is.  It sounds like someone faintly knocking on my walls.  At first I thought it was a ghost, but I’ve never been sensitive to ghosts.  I spent all night pacing the floors, upstairs and down, room to room, checking to see if anyone was there.  I had some knew security cameras installed.  By now they’re everywhere.  I also had the alarm system updated.  I don’t think it’s anything.  I’m sure it’s just something innocent, but one can never be too careful.  My thighs and knees hurt from walking around all night.  I’m glad the guy from the security company is gone.  I need to rest. 

 

September 30^th 6:02pm

Moonlight, moonlight, where is my moonlight?  Where is my cool breeze?  Where is my figurative cat from that Alastair Reid poem?  I have the words tattooed on my back that represent freedom and living, yet here I am in my cave.  I’m entrapped.  People live out in the world, with all the danger.  They live so carelessly, so freely.  They risk sun damage and violent attack by walking around in the early evening.  You never know when life is going to pop out at you and stab you.  You never know when it’s all going to end.  I could die in my cave.  I could die on the street.  I used to pray hard every time I would go out that nothing bad would ever happen to me.  Walking around, everything irritating would happen.  My hair would blow in front of my face, or there would be no wind, and I would only feel the horrible sunlight.  There would be chewing and popping coming at me from every direction.  Oh, the horrible sounds of being out.  Where is my peace that the careless cats feel every day while living dangerously?  Will I ever feel comfortable outside my cave again?  Today, I am a dead dog.  I don’t even like dogs. 

 

May 25^th 11:02pm

I can see you, new reader, sitting at your computer, leaning on your left hand while scrolling down over my past folks.  Sometimes, I swear, I can feel you all, each and every one of you.  I don’t know how or if I am aware, but it feels like I’m aware.  It feels like deep in my cave I’m tuned in to the outside word in a strange and beautiful way.  I can see you. 

 

June 1^st 9:00am

I just found out that a lot of my old blog posts got deleted somehow, and I don’t know how.  I guess I shouldn’t care; it’s not like I’ve said anything particularly mind blowing.  I feel sick, and then I feel better, and then I feel worse again.  Still, it’s irritating to see a chunk of my life disappear like that.  Where have I been?  Have I been lost, or more found than usual?  One will never know. 

 

June 18^th 12:01am

It feels like someone’s chasing.  I run around the rooms here at night, scared of who might be in each room.  Sometimes I sit in my room and hide.  Then I think it would be easier if only I knew.  I hear so many noises.  After being cooped up in this house for so long, constantly, constantly terrified, I wonder if it’s screwing with my brain.  It feels so much safer in here, and yet I’m always exposed.  I’ve got locks on all the doors and windows, but nothing is 100% safe.  I’m always exposed.  I run around the rooms at night, hollering to anyone who might be there.  I know you’re there!  I can hear you!  Don’t think I won’t fight you if I have to!  I will fight you to the death!  Oh, Lord, I hope this doesn’t kill me.  I lie awake each night just praying I’ll fall asleep and wake up the next morning. 

 

June 25^th 1:05pm

It has now been over 6 months since I’ve left this house, ever since I could feel spring coming.  I can only enjoy spring from the indoors, from the safety of my room where I can open my window and breathe in the cool air.  Outside, I can feel the sun on my skin.  I can’t stand that feeling.  Outside, there are too many noises.  Spring and summer are unbearable.  I’m too old to live with what I cannot bear.  Why torture myself?  What good does it bring me to walk around in a tortured state, cringing as noises and sun assault me from every direction?  No, I want to live in peace.  I want to live in comfort.  I will live here.  My only contact with the outer world is through the internet and the maid who comes periodically to deliver groceries and clean. 

Last night, I fell asleep within 15 mins of 3:02am.  That’s as far as I can pinpoint it.  I woke up sometime after 5am.  That’s the most I’ve slept in the past few days.  I’ve slept for an hour or so here and there.  Then, in the AM, I would lie down in a half sleep that’s not very refreshing.  It’s starting to have an effect on my brain, I’m convinced.  My body always aches still.  That’s nothing new.  Today, the walls started wiggling again.  I keep seeing movement out of the corner of my eyes, but nothing’s there.  Yesterday, I woke up, and I saw a naked woman standing beside my bed.  I could only see her middle portion, facing away from me.  It was very hazy, and I knew it wasn’t real.  It didn’t even feel real.  It didn’t feel like anyone was really there.  It didn’t startle me.  I just saw it, and then I lied down again, and it vanished.  My mind is going, and I’m fighting, kicking and screaming.  I won’t go down without a fight. 

 

July 10^th 10:15am

Today I woke up still in a dream.  I was in the middle of a conversation and kept having it.  It wasn’t a particularly enriching conversation, but I was enjoying it.  I could still here the person talking after I knew I had woken up, so I kept talking back for about half an hour.  Then I woke up more and the conversation ended.  I had only been asleep for a couple of hours.  Today the ground seems very wobbly.  I have to hold on to things as I walk around.  It feels sort of like I’m walking around in one of those bouncy rooms for children.  It’s very unstable.  It’s almost better if I don’t try and look down because it’s very foggy.  I can’t see it very well, and it looks like it’s fading away as I step. 

 

July 22^nd 4:08pm

This lack of sleep has been affecting my daydreams.  I can never daydream about good things anymore.  I have to feel what I daydream, or I can’t daydream it well.  The ground is still unstable.  I still see bits of movement outside my direct line of vision, but now it just seems as if the air is moving.  Walking takes so much effort that I spend much of my day lying around.  I try to have good daydreams, but it’s difficult when your mind is feeling so sluggish.  Maybe it’s strange, but I need to have a strong grip  on reality to daydream.  My brain needs to feel active and strong, not sluggish.  The story lines just get uncomfortable.  My body writhes, and so do my characters’ lives.  I want so much for Baby to succeed.  Things are going well with her husband, but every time she comes home to visit………  I think Kevin shows up mostly when my body is aching.  He’s the only true villain in my story lines.  He’s there whenever I’m in pain.  She comes home, and he tries to kidnap her.  It’s getting worse.  With David gone, she has less protection.  She’s having psychic visions now, and she can see bad things coming.  She can see that one day there will be a horrible, bloody stand-off.  She tries to push the images out, but she gets them nonetheless.  …blurry images of him holding an object over her with the horrible dreaded feeling that one of them will have to die that day.  If I don’t get well, it may come sooner than later.  

 

[Cordellia Amethyste Rose]

Sorry I was so snippy.  I'd just woken up.  Either way, I really have not been able to tolerate unsolicited advice lately.  People always want to try and "help" me, but I'm not asking for help.  I don't want people telling me to change my way of thinking or explaining why I am the way that I am.  I feel like no one's in a position to know my brain better than me.  Though based on myself, this is a work of fiction.  I was just wondering if it was as boring to other people as it is to me.  To me, it's old news, so I can't get enough distance to tell if it's ok or not.

[Cordellia Amethyste Rose]

Jane, this is a fictional story.  Yes, I really have all those sensitivities and have really been through that insomnia, but it's fictional.  Please don't tell me how to feel or to daydream.  What did you think you were reading?  This isn't a cry for help, it's a STORY.  No one tells me how to use my brain.  It's my brain.  I just wanted to know if my story was interesting enough to read or not.  I don't really want a critique on how I live and think.

[Jane Wilson]

Please be aware that certain people have very sensitive nervous systems and react strongly to disturbances in their environment.  You probably fall into that catagory, it is a physical traits and people deal with it differently.  My family all have issues from this.  I think you are missing the whole point of day dreaming.  It is to make you happy!  If you do not like how this dream is going change it or work on another one, you are in control.  Also it is ok to experiment with an element of danger, after all who day dreams about people sitting at a picnic with nothing going on?  Now that I said that there will be people who do , there is always the exception.  Try watching some anime with happy endings, put yourself into it, rewrite it .  Use your gift to help youself, it is a gift and I have dealt with the mirror thing.  Fortunately I am near sighted and can take off my glasses can't see a thing, including mirrors!  That is most active when I am depressed.  For me depression is both an on going battle which is sometimes seperate from MD .  Your mind is your place of refuge, seize control and do not surrender it ever!

[Cordellia Amethyste Rose]

You're not crazy.  Mine feel like they pop up according to how I feel.  If that one character weren't dead, he'd keep popping up, and I'd keep feeling tormented by him.  It's part of the creative process.  Our characters take on lives of their own.  I'm sure most artists would agree their art has a life of its own.

[Cordellia Amethyste Rose]

Anette, in my story, my character (basically me, only a little worse off) daydreams when she feels sick because she's too sick to do anything else, and it's all she knows.  She tries to daydream about happier characters and happier scenarios but can't get into them unless she's in the right mood.  Her/my daydreams rely heavily on the ability to really feel what the characters are feeling.  It's hard to get into a loving scenario when your body just aches.  She has control over them, but she naturally gravitates towards some story lines over others depending on how she feels.  Kevin is the only truly bad character, so when she's feeling truly bad she doesn't have a lot of options unless she wants to create friction among her other characters.  These characters are based on my daydream world, of course.  The Kevin character has been dead for years.  It's hard to daydream when I feel sick because I can't get into happy daydreams, and I don't really have any bad characters left.  

While I occasionally wonder if my characters might represent people I knew on the other side and are remembering, I harbor no delusions that they're really them or that they're really speaking to me.  I control them, and they serve a purpose for me.  I hope that helps.  

[Cordellia Amethyste Rose]

Thanks for the feedback!  Glad to know it's not as boring as it feels to me.  I doubt I'll get very descriptive, but it's good to know it's not 100% crap.  Lol.  :)

[roxanne]

You are a wonderfully creative & believable artist with quite a gift.  I am anxiously awaiting the next installment.  I want to know a little about Baby's husband; what is he like?  What does Baby look like?  I picture sort of a Natalie Portman.