Where wild minds come to rest
Hey, guys... This is going to wind up being more of a personal vent than any sort of productive conversation starter.... Just warning prospective readers ahead.
Well, let's start in the present, shall we? I'm currently behind on more than half of my work in my college courses, most of which have to do with writing, one of the loves of my life. I'm constantly fading in and out of my relationships with others, sometimes not answering people's texts/phone calls for days at a time because I'm on a daydream binge. But, worst of all, is my numbness to all of this. I'm starting to have trouble bringing myself to connect with pretty much..... Anything. It's not all of the time, mind you. I have moments, sometimes days, or even entire WEEKS at a time, where I feel completely in the moment and connected to everything and everyone. Those are the happiest moments of my life. But, lately, I've been spending more and more time looking at my life through a fog that refuses to dissipate.... I've tried to explain my numbness to others and myself, and I can't quite come to terms with it.... Even now, as I sit here, all I feel is.... Hollow. But, let's talk about the beginnings of my issue, which, from what I've read, seem to differ slightly from some others...
My parents have a couple of favorite stories they love to tell me about over and over again. One of their favorites (Even before they found out about my daydreaming, and even longer before I discovered what MD was.) was the story of how they decided to enroll me in dance classes. They'd say, when I was around 3 years old, I would always beg to watch Disney movies, Cinderella being my favorite, in the "big room", the living room, rather than the smaller playroom where I'd usually watch movies. After I'd incessantly begged, they finally let me put the movie on in the living room for the first time. And so, my parents put the movie in, and watched as I completely ignored Cinderella and began spinning around in circles in the center of the living room as the movie played. My parents were at first confused. Then, slightly scared as I'd spin somewhat more violently and even flail a little at the more emotional parts of the movie. And, finally, they were astonished as Cinderella came to an end and, for the first time since the movie began, I stopped spinning. I had spun for the entirety of the movie and did not seem the least bit dizzy or disoriented. When asked what I'd been doing, I said I was watching the movie. When they asked me why I preferred the living room TV to the playroom TV, which were both about the same size, I answered that there's more room to watch TV in the living room. My parents, focusing on my keen ability to twirl rather than the strangeness of my actions, immediately worked to enroll me in dance lessons. This is still one of their absolute favorite stories to tell me.
Eventually, the daydreams became more difficult to confine to certain times, such as "watching TV". I'm not sure of the time I started doing this, and neither are my parents since they found out after I did this, I began pacing in circles in the privacy of my room while shaking a string in front of me. I"d use the string to focus my flailing and spinning movements, which could become somewhat... Out of control. My mother used to shake a string in front of her while watching her soap operas when I was younger (Minus any sort of flailing or pacing.), which is where I'd guess I gained the string habit. She doesn't do it anymore, and stopped around the time she discovered I was doing something similar, but far more severe. I'd steal my mother's strings, secretly take them into my room, and DD for short periods of time. The fact that I could not always have access to a piece of string helped me control the amount of time I could possibly spend DDing, but it was far more often than before. In the earliest memories I have, this was a part of my life. Eventually, I grew braver and braver with the amount of time and when I'd steal her strings, and, of course, she found out. But, rather than commiserate or try to understand what all of this was (Even now, she only vaguely talks what I only assume was her MD. All I know is she's done something at least similar since she was a little girl as well.) she gave me my own string and told me I didn't have to steal her's anymore. Thus began the beginning of my descent.
From there, the introduction of a CD player, high-speed internet, and a television in my room would lead to a nearly endless supply of triggers for me to DD to. And, now, we've arrived in the present as far as my MD goes. My parents are fully aware of my MD, and I've even introduced them to the site. But, of course, as many of you know, it doesn't mean they understand. Even my mother, who I wish would try to connect with me on this mental disorder that we could possibly share, remains opaque about it and refuses to talk about it other than to say she didn't let it control my life like "you seem to let it" and that she has now pretty much completely conquered it. When I ask how, she simply says she moved on from it and can't seem to explain how. My parents, and the few other people I've tried to explain it to, even the most understanding, cannot seem to comprehend the idea that I can't control it. They tell me to just stop. I haven't done anything to cause it, and I can't seem to find any way to stop it.
And, just like any addict, eventually the initial high is not enough..... And you start to grow numb to the things that once made you happy. My parents call me distant and selfish, as I neglect my chores and refuse to talk to them when I get home..... I've been written up at my job for making simple little mistakes because I wasn't able to focus entirely on my job..... My friends wonder why one day I'm energized and happy to see them, while others it's as if there's an invisible barrier, and my smile doesn't seem top reach my eyes..... I'm terrified to drive because I'm constantly losing focused, and have already harmlessly bumped into 3 cars. While there was no damage to either car and no action taken at any of the incidents, it only serves to make me more terrified to place my life, and, worse, other people's lives, in my hands.... I'm tired of this hollow feeling and this inability to care about the things I should. So, that's that.... I guess I'm here to try to make sense of what's been going on in my head for as long as I can remember.
I'm also apparently here to make annoyingly massive blog posts. :P