malapdative daydreaming; addiction

what is the cost of a coping mechanism? what is the cost of having a thought - or several - that simply has no place to live?

i have been locked inside rooms before. rooms i stepped into myself, bolted shut, and hid the key to. i have always wanted to feel alive. and maybe that is my greatest test; the way my own gifts turn inward, becoming the poisoned pleasure of maladaptive daydreaming.

malapdative daydreaming. i have tried to say it out loud many times. but i hate the sound of it. i hate that it is a label that describes a part of myself. i hate that it is the term i came across when i started trying to figure out what was wrong with me. i hate that it is responsible for the locked rooms i have been in.

when people think addiction, its the usual drugs, gambling, and devices. but i think addiction is way beyond that.

for example, i have been addicted to my own mind; to myself. i have allowed my imagination to swallow every aspect of my reality. i have never experienced nicotine before, but the euphoria i feel from my mind when this happens feels close enough to warrant the word addiction.

imagine realizing that there is a place you can exist all by yourself, where the fear of being judged or losing control does not exist. where your mind produces dopamine and other neurochemicals so intense they begin to control your body, until the line between your imagination and reality thins. a world of your own making, with your own characters that you can customize; characters that can freely express what you cannot.

this fantasy world becomes richer with every visit, making you want to visit even more. over time, everything around you becomes a possible trigger that adds another layer to the story. it’s like being the writer of a book, but in your head. sometimes you pace. sometimes you speak; inside, out loud even.

sounds like a dangerous high? well, exactly.

now, it becomes your favorite place to be. i mean, how would you want to leave? these people understand you so well; and they are extensions of different parts of yourself. and at first, it feels perfectly harmless, but, ‘what once soothed can begin to consume’, and constantly retreating to this ‘safe space’ starts to ruin your life.

now, if you don’t know what this daydreaming is, i suggest you look it up. this is not meant to be an essay explaining its psychology. it is only meant to be the words of a girl who has an imagination as vast as the ocean, and has no idea what to do with it.

i wish to hear more about malapdative daydreaming in the future, with less stigma around it too. i have never been one - and i wish to never be, one to stay quiet, or shy away from the real and uncomfortable conversations, just because no one is talking about it.

this is the scariest thing i’ve ever written. and i know there are people like me, out there - confused and ashamed because they feel alone in this habit that sucks them away from reality. but refusing to accept that it is real and very confusing to deal with just teaches people like me to carry it quietly, and that helps no one.

i don’t know if there will be a continuation of this article; and even if there is, it will be a journey of unpacking, dissecting and understanding, without shame. i also don’t know if this piece will even make it out of my drafts. the fact that it has made it out of my journal is scary enough. but who am i, if not a girl who does everything scared anyway?