Daydreaming can be a beautiful escape

[Jessica Ballantyne]

Daydreaming can be a beautiful escape—but for me, it came at a cost. As someone who’s neurodivergent, my inner world is vivid, rich with imagery and music that feels larger than life. But that same world has made it harder to build friendships, maintain relationships, and grow into the kind of independent adult I want to be.

I often laugh at moments that seem random to others, because the joke is playing out in my head. I’ve had people turn away from me, thinking I’m strange. I make faces without realizing, stare off into space, talk to the air, and laugh at things no one else can see. From the outside, I probably look like I need medication—but inside, it’s just me living in a world that’s hard to explain.

My attention span suffers, and I’ve lost jobs and opportunities because I couldn’t stay present or listen the way others expected. Sometimes my reactions to my daydreams startle people. They think I’m ignoring them, or that I don’t care, or worse—that I’m being rude or spiteful. But the truth is, I’m just not “here” in the way they are.

Other times, I’m completely silent—lost in thought, somewhere far away. And people wonder if I’m okay, or if I’m even thinking at all.

[SA]

I have been through what you’re describing.
I still daydream but I think I’ve done a decent chunk of mental work to process my emotions.
From what you state, it seems daydreaming still is a huge part of your life. What set me apart was the realisation that I had to sit with myself to find out what I was avoiding that caused my MD. This happened in 2024 when I fell ill and was resting in bed for 2-3 days and couldn’t pace here and there.
It was then when I realised that my daydreaming was due to not being able to be who I truly was in real life. I got in touch with the self that got blocked when I was in school. So, I think you’d benefit if you physically stop daydreaming for a bit of time not to stop MD altogether but to become aware of the emotions it’s repressing.