There's this thing called Maladaptive Daydreaming disorder. I strongly suspect that I have it. I've been seeing it mentioned more and more these days, and I've decided that I want to talk about my experiences as a woman whose favorite hobby is daydreaming.
I want to state up front that I'm not looking for sympathy. After all, I'm a writer and compulsive daydreaming is perfect if you want to write things. I'm just trying to reduce the stigma I and many other people feel when talking about their experiences. Also, I want daydreaming to be more accepted in our society in general. I don't think we should be daydreaming all day, or even devoting all of our free time to it, but I think it sucks that you're supposed to spend your childhood having wonderful imaginary adventures but once you reach about eight or nine, you're just supposed to let go of your imagination and focus on the real world. Yes, some of us are lucky to reconnect with our fantastical side in adulthood, but a lot of us aren't.
I'm not going to pretend that being a dreamer is all sunshine and rainbows. I am one of those people who prefers talking with my imaginary friends to talking to real people. After all, if anything goes wrong the off switch is right there. Then there's the problem of me being almost unable to focus on anything that doesn't involve daydreaming. My brain has constant access to an easy source of stimulation, so if I try to get it to do anything else it threatens to quit.
Maybe one of the benefits of growing up in the digital age is that everyone, to a degree, understands what it's like to compulsively daydream. Why do something boring like spend time with your family when your phone is right there after all? Maybe people like me, who don't have to worry about being bored, can help those who are trying to remember what it's like to let your brain become silent
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