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I don’t really have an audience in mind when I sit down to write something. Everything I write is entirely selfish, but I think that’s what makes it work. Tonight however, I’m writing with a very specific person in mind. I’ve been thinking about them and people like them a lot lately, and I don’t know if it gives me strength or hope or if it makes me want to die more than I already do.

I’m filled with a lot of compressed rage. It comes over me in sickening waves until I force myself to laugh or smile again. I oscillate between desperately wanting to be alone and being crippling lonely. I want to do everything right now and also never have to do anything ever again. I want to cry but I sit for hours thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking while my eyes remain dry. It’s an exhausting state of living, and I’m not sure how anyone ever does it.

I forget that my emotions aren’t all isolated incidents, but it’s easy to do so for someone who doesn’t address them outwardly all that often. That’s another reason why I write at all—it’s an indirect way for me to yell at the universe that I’M NOT DOING REALLY GREAT RIGHT NOW and that IF I COULD CATCH A BREAK, THAT BE REALLY GOOD. Please and thank you.

I like thinking of the other side when my life will be working out exactly as I want it to, but that idealism is utter bullshit. I’m never going to be happy if happiness means having my life together. I’m trying to force myself to be happy in my mess, but right now I’m more upset by my inability to make changes for myself.

I’m chipping away at my apathy, bit by bit. I worry sometimes that my lack of steam is going to bite me in the ass any minute, but I always cut it close enough. I worry that my inability to put my blinders on is going to drive me insane with jealousy towards my peers because anything has to be better than my life, right?

I’m growing sick of living in an echo-chamber of my own voice. I’m pretty sick of everyone else too, to be honest with you.

To put it simply, John Mulaney once said, “Do My Friends Hate Me or Do I Just Need to Go to Sleep?” While the sentiment is relatable and appealing, I’d say that at the moment I’m more “Do I Hate My Friends or Do I Just Need to Take a Nap?”

That’s another thing, my dear. I’m tired all the fucking time now. Not just physically. We’ve got the trifecta: Emotional, Mental, and Physical! I could sleep for 24 hours and I’d still be falling over in exhaustion. Most of my energy has gone into over analyzing how I’m handling my life and being paranoid about whether or not I actually trust or love anyone.

I feel like slowly going insane.

Friend, I’m becoming delirious and sad (nothing new or special) so I’ll have to stop writing. I wrote a poem about eating last night. It was a Saturday. It made me so sad that I went and sat in a car parking lot for two hours.

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m doing wonderfully and everything is exactly how I’d like it to be. I’m genuinely considering flipping my body clock to knockout at 6pm and wake up at 2. I’m truly in my prime.

 

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Seniori-tea

Fear is defining my life lately.

This isn’t a pleasant conclusion to come to as you can imagine. I’d like to think that I, for the most part, exude a certain amount of confidence. I’d even say, if it isn’t too bold, that I’ve managed to fool most people into thinking that I feel secure with myself. Ha.

I’ve lived under the perpetual belief that everyone secretly hates me for the past ten years of my existence and I’m kind of over it. I think everyone feels that way from time to time; I’d even argue that it’s an essential ingredient to the human condition. But my fear of taking up too much space, being too bold, or too invasive is driving me towards insanity.

It’d be easy to pin this feeling on a small but traumatic lunch room incident when I was in the second grade, but I’m starting to believe it’s far beyond simple rejection. I think I hold a certain shame in my existence—I’m obsessed with this idealized persona of myself and the idea of anyone seeing past that terrifies me to no end. I feel like if I say the wrong thing or let anyone outside my very tight group of friends know any of the things I care about, they’ll come to be disappointed, bored, or worst of all annoyed.

The worst part right now is that this fear has started to bleed into my creative work the more aware I become of how closely attached it is to me and the prying eyes of my peers. In reality my world wouldn’t implode if someone believe that something I wrote sucked. My problem, however, begins to take root in people thinking that because of that, I suck.

I’m in a current dilemma. I could A) drop all of my bullshit and push myself to be more daring once in awhile or B) I could continue to play it safe and save myself from all the inevitable and impending heartbreak. A is our obvious choice.

But it doesn’t change the fact that sometimes, although there are highlights, I do suck. I’m really soft-spoken, so most people can’t hear me in loud group settings. I’m also insanely uncomfortable talking in most groups expect when it’s my closest friends. I’m either overly talkative or uncomfortably quiet when I’m in conversation with others and sometimes I nod and smile when people speak to me instead of bothering to process a word of what’s being said.

I use self deprecating humor because I grew up in a generation whose main source of comedy is formulated as such, even though it’s honestly just sad and uncomfortable to listen to. I’m a Cancer, so of course I’m emotionally unstable. Sometimes I’ll isolate myself away from the people I care about more than the world because I’ll convince myself that they don’t actually like me or want to speak to me, inevitably distancing us further.

I want to talk to literally 10,000 different people and befriend them, but I never do because I convince myself that they either a) are too cool for me or b) want nothing to do with me. Even if I do end up talk to those people, I still manage to convince myself that everything about our friendship is fake.

I also dissociate 50% of the time—partly to ease the pain of being alive and at school but mainly because the stress and sadness of being alive at the moment is too much and if I snap out of it anytime soon I might actually kill myself.

Yet there’s a reason I’m writing this all out on here and not in my journal to look back on in a few months and pity myself over. I’m exposing myself because acceptance is the first step. I’m exposing myself because I need to be held accountable for my self-sabotaging bullshit. I’m exposing my inner workings because deep down, you’re reading my words because something is sticking for you.

We all need to breathe and lower our fists every now and then. I think that most of us never learn to live audaciously until the ripe age of 40, and as much as I’m looking forward to how enlightened I’ll be by that time, I think it’d be ridiculous to wait that long. I deserve to be happy and live my life the way I desire. I deserve to let myself feel proud of the work I’m doing. I deserve to let myself talk to the people I watch from afar when I walk the halls with my headphones in. I deserve to keep singing my lungs out in the car when I pull into the student parking lot, banging my head like a poltergeist is taking over my body. I deserve to live the life I’ve always wanted.

When I think of people who live the closest to fearlessly as any teenager can, I think of my friend Irene. We were talking the other day about people, especially one person in particular that always makes me nervous to talk to. She told me that she never really acknowledged status with others. She just sees a new person to come and understand.

I haven’t been the same since.

To be clear, the girl isn’t superhuman by any means, but if there’s one gift she has that I can only hope to get a fraction of, it is her ability to connect. That’s what I want to work on. I want to connect this year before I have to cut ties with my home. I want to connect with myself, connect with people, and connect with the world. Only then will I ever be able to get where I want to go. Only then can I live a little bit more freely.

Right now I’m going to be kinder to myself. I hope you can come to do the same.

 

the way home.

We were squished together like sardines

in a dark blue hallway,

the linoleum lights giving a warm and tired glow

on our sweaty and tired faces.

Tiny feet beat down on the ground

causing the ringing of drums to spiral

down that black blue hallway.

Then there was me—

tall and wearing too many layers for fall,

straight hair pulled too tightly back in a ponytail,

my tiny fist clinging to my shiny black box of plastic

with the only numbers inside being my mother’s and the house.

 

When the bell rang, the children sprang free

from the confines of the brick school house,

grubby hands pushing and shoving,

tiny feet drumming on pavement

until they hit the grass and took off

running across the hills toward wired fencing.

We all sang when we crossed the wired fence,

our feet slowing to a walk

until our hands found our silver door knobs

and we were finally home.

 

the ugliest landscape in all fifty states.

For those who were unimpressed by the Kansan scenery, I ask them if they’ve ever seen a wheat field. Despite all of the possible construction that our Great Plains have endured, the wheat field remains unending in her billowing glory.

She does not care for the roads, the offices, or the Starbucks the men she raised use to mow her out. She hides herself along the curbs or pushing up in-between sidewalk cracks, leaving her thick hair loose and long. We zip by her on the highway or on the way to work, to busied by our own sorrows to acknowledge the effort she’d put into her gleam and shine that day.

The wheat field knows her timeless beauty, with her blazing white brush and her free and flowing body. We dance together as the wind blows, her long blades a long swaying skirt and the sound like a rattlesnake or the friction of heaps of box braids.

The wheat field knows her purpose. She doesn’t fuss as the cows graze around, chewing her away until she’s bare. She knows that she’ll spring back within a few mornings, her bundle thicker and stronger than before.

The wheat field is plain to the commoner, but fierce to those who acknowledge her unending gifts. You may not be hers to beguile, but it’d mighty arrogant for you to assume she’d ever care.

Polaroid Memory

The following I wrote in an effort to find sleep after finishing Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. In the first few chapters she suggests writing of childhood. Since I am still a child, I have years of material to pull clearly from. I had taken a trip to France the summer before freshman year and stayed for eight weeks. During one of those weeks My cousin brought me along to a church camp in Switzerland.


It wasn’t cold, surprisingly. Summer by the snowy mountainside had granted the privilege of soft, cool humidity, making the team task of dish washing less insufferable. We had eaten our lunches before anyone had come into the lunch hall, entering into a makeshift boiler room where all the dirty dishes were held. A sweet older Swiss woman greeted us, assigning us to different stations (one of which I can no longer recall but I imagine had something to do with organizing). I was given the duty of washing and drying whatever dishes came by. I kept my mouth shut while the rest of my team joked around with each other while completing our task, a flood of dirty dishes descending down their miniature elevator in quick increments.  I hadn’t spoken for so long that I began to feel my throat swell up permanently until the older woman turned to me and asked my name.

“Kirsten,” I said affirmatively, my shoulders instinctively rolling back with pride. Her face broke out into the widest and most cherub like of smiles.

“What a wonderful name! My nephews name is Kirst.” The name is male supposedly, and I had never heard anything like it. She began gushing over her dear nephew in a way I couldn’t help but smile at because she’d been the second person in my three months of solitude that my name and presence had provided pure joy to.

The other person had been a month before during another forced camping trip. His name was Adrien, mixed Danish and African and the eye of my cousin’s affections. I would tease Edna about him constantly, but I wholly understood her infatuation—hazel eyes, smooth skin, and a devilishly kind smile. He spoke fluent English—he was one of the few campers that did—so he felt like a saving grace. His only flaw was that he smoked weed the way Mafia gangsters smoked cigars and it had been causing a rift in his family as of late. 

At the introduction of my name he had told me that my name was danish (I was already perfectly aware of its Germanic nature but I ate up the compliment ravenously) which he loved because he was danish. I shot an onslaught of questions about his background, all of which slip my mind now, before he was pulled away into a rugby game. The ball was blue and white and rubbery and I was wholly confused by the sight of it. They ran across the wide, open clearing tossing the ball back and forth, offering now and again for me to join for me to decline and quickly retreat to the side away from the commotion. My eyes remained on Adrien still. We’d bonded so quickly over so little, I couldn’t help but want to kiss him as a form of compassion, of thank you, of a possibility of the romanticized future of summertime romance that has never been in reach.

Daydreaming All the Time

I don’t talk about this often, but it’s something that I’d like to make more of a habit of sharing. I have MADD, also known as MD, and in longer terms known as Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder. Personally, I don’t think of it as much of an issue . I find the habit helps pass the time in my daily life and cancel out unpleasant experiences. It also motivates me towards other productive endeavors like writing, exercising, and introspection. Before I go on any longer, I’ll try to explain what exactly MADD is.

Maladaptive Daydreaming was a term first coined by Eli Somer, an Israeli professor of clinical psychology, in 2002. The disorder is characterized by obsessive daydreaming that can last hours on end with little ability to pause or prevent. People who’ve identified with the disorder find that symptoms are characterized in excessive pacing, inability to prevent daydreaming, and triggers like music or quiet spaces that can induce a vivid daydream. MADD is not the same as daydreaming while riding in a car or imagining music videos for a certain song. MADD is typically tied to those who’ve experienced trauma as a coping mechanism, but ultimately is just that: a coping mechanism. If you want to read someone’s own experience with MADD (I can’t believe I’m saying this) Buzzfeed actually wrote a good article on it.

I don’t pace and I don’t always need music to fall into a daydream. I’ve been stuck in this limbo for almost a decade now, mastering the ability to conjure up sharp consistent melodies in my head and play out thorough storylines for weeks on end no matter the environment. My paras (characters) and paracosms mean a lot to me. Some characters I’ve known since I was kid, and have grown and evolved as people just as much as I have.

I really want to talk about this, give you a glimpse inside my brain. If you don’t know me all that well, this is a pretty solid start.


1. Do you use a repetitive motion to stimulate daydreams (rocking, pacing, etc.)? What is it/are they? Can you daydream without repetitive movement?

I don’t have a repetitive motion for daydreaming, which is why it’s easy for me to daydream no matter where I am. However, I don’t daydream if I’m in a social situation and I’m being directly addressed. I do daydream when I feel anxious (walking in the hallways at school or sitting around in orchestra).  I also have locations that tend to be daydreaming spaces—my kitchen, my room, and my car. It’s only if I’m alone though.

2. Do your daydreams get violent? How do you feel about them? How do you respond to them?

When I was younger they could get violent or intense. I once had daydream storylines that involved my paras getting assaulted or abused. Since I’ve started high school it doesn’t go that route. I don’t think there was a particular reason why outside of playing with human emotion. It never affected me directly but I’m not sure if I could emotionally or mentally handle being in a violent situation.

3. When are your daydreams the happiest?

When I’m sleepy drunk or generally happy. Since my main paracosm surrounds the idea of a group of friends making content, it’s happiest when they’re just hanging out with each other. 

4. Do you daydream in first person perspective? Do you have a parame/avatar?

Sometimes. In the main paracosm I do, but in adjacent ones, I typically don’t. It becomes more like watching a movie, because that’s what they’re explained to be: movies, videos, television shows, or online series’. I become more engaged if I daydream from a first person perspective. I don’t have a set parame, I just relate to certain characters more than others.

5. Do you have (a) linear daydream(s)? How long has it/have they been running?

All of them are linear. The longest has been since I was eight and the shortest started a few months ago. Some daydreams do eventually end and the longest running one has evolved greatly.

6. How did you discover you had madd? How do you feel about it?

I discovered it when I came across a post on dissociation. I only dissociate when I’m under too much stress at once and it’s not connected to DID. When I read about MADD I remember thinking ‘Holy crap that’s me! I thought I just had an overly active imagination.’ It was very validating and didn’t disturb me too much.

7. How do you feel about your characters/paras? Have you ever fallen in love with them?

I fall in love with anyone I care deeply about. Some I’m more connected to than others since some of them only serve a single purpose or don’t have an enriched personality (I always feel bad about that but who has the time). I don’t think I could ever fall in love with a product of my own imagination, but I think it’s affected my perspective on what I expect from any form of relationship.

8. Do you know any other MD’ers personally?

Not to my knowledge. I’m also really bad at participating in communities on or offline.

9. How did you feel about it before you knew what maladaptive daydreaming was? Did you think it was something everybody does or that you were unique?

I always thought I was unique, that I just had imaginary friends that just made life more interesting. Every now and again it would upset me because of the fact that it’s not real and I didn’t feel comfortable mentioning it to people since I could never figure out how to describe it. 

10. What most influences your daydreams? Realtime events? Books? Movies?

A mix of everything but more so stories. They could come from music (concept albums), books, and movies/shows (rarely). People or specific characters have an easier time finding their way into my daydreams. 

11. If you have a parame, please describe them. Are they much like you? How do you feel about them?

I already addressed not having a parame but there are a few characters that I’ll connect to more easily.  Generally those characters tend to be a little neurotic, calming and/or cold in nature, and take on dominating positions. They’re never exactly like me, more like different variations of my personality. The closest one to me is Galia—has anxiety, is a writer, and tends to act overly mature or maternal. We’re not quite the same and I usually imagine her being shorter and cuter than I am. But we’re both black and female, and she’s the para I’v e had the longest. 

12. Do you have favorite paras? Why are they your favorites?

Yes. It depends on what story I’m stuck on at the moment or if I’m developing their personality. Currently my favorite para is Savannah Carpenter. I’ve come to like her because of how off-putting her personality should be. She’s very distant and has a very mean, deadpan sense of humor but she’s so talented that everyone kind of ignores it. My all time favorite is Jordan Mills. He’s alway been a comfort to me and has taken on a guardian angel type role.

11. How old are the majority of your paras?

The age range of those that matter is 17-22 on average. It’s sensible since it’s easier for me to imagine how people around that age interact because those are the people I’m around. I’ve always had a tendency to imagine people way older than me and it’s only recently that they’ve come to be my age.

12. If you could give your paras any advice, what would you tell them?

Don’t try to control what cannot be controlled. Believe in your abilities and do what you can when you can. That’s am everyone kind of thing

13. Do your paras appear in a style other than realistic? For example, like anime or in the style of a video game?

No. It’s too weird for me.

14. Do you have OCs?

A majority of my paras are OCs but there are non OCs too. The non OCs are usually from things I’m obsessed with. Once they’re acknowledged they remain apart of the main paracosm forever. It also makes sense since I imagine things as apart of our current reality with a bit of leeway around usual conventions. However, the more time progresses the more realistic my paracosm becomes.

15. Are any of your paras adopted from existing fiction? From real life?

Yes. I’m not going to say from where. You can draw assumptions from what I’m obsessed with at the time if you want. 

16. Where do you get names for your paras?

The older ones were random chance or adopted from real people until they evolved away from the person they were inspired by. The newer ones have slightly more meaningful names by like a fraction. Some have names that I might use in the future. 

17. Do your paras have tragic backstories? Will you share a few?

Yes, the main ones. I’ll go through some of them:

Galia (Gigi): Born in Huntsville, Kansas, moved to Encino, California around age 8. Has three siblings named April, Katelyn, and Nathaniel. Nathaniel who’s nine years older than her died at age 18. Katelyn who is now seven to eight years older (she was originally Gigi’s twin) is the stable one of their family and grew up to become a counseling psychiatrist. April who is now four years older (used to be four years younger) was a depressive and suicidal teen who eventually turned around and grew up to work successfully in fashion. Galia has severe General Anxiety Disorder and eventually started seeing a therapist age fifteen and soon after took medication. She also has milder OCD and is generally characterized with high functioning neuroticism. She’s nineteen and trying her best.

Desiree (Dez): She only goes by Dez. I imagine her real name might be an identity trigger for her. She was born and raised in Brazil until age eight when she moved to the U.S. to live with her dad. Her family has a long heritage of hierarchy leaving a family head for each generation. As a child she lived with the family head for a short amount of time and was subjected to abuse that she doesn’t speak of even as an adult. Coming to America she knew little English and wasn’t able to befriend other ELL children due to not knowing anything other than Portuguese. She eventually made friends with Camille and they’ve been close ever since. She hadn’t learned to cope with her childhood trauma until a couple of years ago. She’s twenty and grinding. 

Sophia: Sophia’s backstory is more gapped. The worst she had experienced as a kid was polio and the experience brought her to her closest friend for the time. As a teenager she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder during a severe depressive episode that nearly ended her life. She’s doing pretty well for herself now running a media company. Sophia’s backstory is the closest to my own “sad backstory.”

18. Are any of your paras deceased? How did they die? How did you feel?

In the main paracosm, no. They either move, stop working or simply disappear. In the adjacent universes, there’s a higher chance of death and it happens in all sorts of ways (supernatural, realistic, etc.). It doesn’t hurt me too much since it’s just me writing out a story in my head.

19. Are your paras human? Mortal?

Right now, everyone is. For a small fraction of time they were monsters with different abilities. I prefer human paras simply because it’s more accessible and I like playing with reality.

20. Have any of your paras ever completely disappeared/vanished from the daydream world? Is there a story behind it or was it an unconscious occurrence? Do you think they might return? Do you want them to?

All the time, whenever they no longer serve an ideal purpose or there’s other characters that fulfill their role in a superior way. I don’t really want them to return when they do since it makes it harder for me to keep track of and properly develop everyone.

21. Have your characters committed a crime? Have they been to jail? Are they legally innocent? Are they socially innocent?

Yes. I can’t remember thinking out a jailing sequence, but since I daydream stories, conflict has to arise. There’s lighter crimes like underaged driving and heavier ones like assault or murder. I haven’t thought through a story like that recently enough to remember the consequence given. The most recent “crime” was when one of my characters was actively giving access to confidential government files while also actively manipulating his friends to involve themselves in unsafe situations. They’re both still very upset with him, but he still works as a government historian.

22. Do your paras often find themselves in dangerous situations? How/why? Do they go looking for trouble? Does trouble look for them?

A lot of my paras tend to act out in a self destructive manner when conflict arises. Some situations are dangerous physically while others are dangerous mentally (involving themselves in toxic relationships etc.). Usually it’s the fault of hubris.

23. What do you associate with your paras? Colors? Smells? Words?

Everything. They have whole personalities with different aethetics, different senses of fashion, different interest/aspirations. The only thing that doesn’t differentiate very well is taste in music.

24. Has a para ever broken your heart? Have you ever broken theirs (through a parame)?

I don’t get involved directly in a paracosm. People get hurt just like in reality because the paracosm is based in reality. I like bringing characters pain in general whether I’m writing or daydreaming.

25. Has a para ever made you physically cry?

Not because of something within the paracosm. 

26. Do you act out your daydreams? Do you speak to/through your paras out loud?

Yes. I’m trying to stop doing that.

27. Have you ever been caught daydreaming?

Multiple times. Fun fact: Every time I’m asked if I’m talking to myself I lose half of my life force.

28. What do you most dislike about being a maladaptive daydreamer? Are there things you like about it?

The only thing I don’t like about it is having too many stories in my head that I can’t write down. Otherwise, I’ve come to deeply appreciate it. Maybe therapy will change my mind.

29. Briefly describe a daydream.

I had a daydream going about Agneau, the story of a boy named Joshua who’s the son of a cult leader. I’m not going to elaborate because I’m actually writing it out. However working through a daydream helps me formulate worlds better for my writing. 

30. Do you daydream to music? Is music a necessity to daydream? Do you wear headphones? How loud do you keep the volume?

I daydream intensely to music. I once spent a nine hour car ride daydreaming to pass the time. It isn’t a necessity for me and I have to wear headphones to daydream along. I never let the volume go past 3/4 unless there’s too much outside noise.

31. Do you have models/faceclaims for your paras?

Sometimes. For example, Moebe (pronounced like Moby Dick) looks like this:

moebe2

I don’t always have specific faces for all my paras but I do know what they’re supposed to look like. If they end up in my writing like Moebe has it’s more distinct.

32. Does daydreaming energize or exhaust you?

Energizes. It’s socializing but without the anxiety and provides all the adrenaline that writing or watching a good movie provides me.

33. Do you think there is a pattern/correlation between your daydreams and how you daydream them? For example, are your daydreams more violent when you’re lying down?

Not in that aspect. It’s more like the setting can be affected based on where I am. Sometimes the interactions are too, but that’s pretty rare. 

34. Do you have distinct daydream triggers? Do your daydreams come and go as they please?

If I’m alone I’m gonna daydream. I only stop when I’m working on something or around other people. Even if I’m in a crowd I’m imagining a character next to me. It eases my anxiety and makes things more interesting. I’m pretty in control still. If I feel like being alone than I’m alone as myself.

35. Does your mood affect the amount of time you spend daydreaming? Or their intensity?

If I’m feeling too sad or anxious I can’t daydream. The sleepier I am, the more I daydream. 

36. Have you ever had daydream block? How did you feel? How did you break it?

Sometimes. I usually just come up with a new story or force something interesting to happen. It’s like writer’s block for me. I just have to poke at it until it shatters. If it lasts too long I can start to feel dazed and numb.

37. Have you ever had abusive paras? If it is not too sensitive to share, will you tell us about your experience with them?

I haven’t.

38. Do your paras directly affect you in thisverse? Do you only interact with them in fictional scenarios or do you find yourself reaching for them in realtime, too? For example, do you converse with them mentally when facing a difficult situation?

Sometimes if I’m getting ready to enter an unpleasant situation I’ll use fictional scenarios to make them bearable. For example, if a school day is particularly daunting or I’m too jaded to get through the day, I’ll pretend that I’m bringing along a person to shadow me  as I walk from class to class.

39. Do you only daydream fantasy? Do you dream about thisverse?

I mainly daydream in reality, just not my reality. My main parcosm isn’t set in my home state.  It’s been set in other places like LA or NYC or even Salem, Oregon. When I’m traveling I’ll imagine it to be set where I’m travelling to. It just doesn’t make sense for the main paracosm to be in my home state since they work in entertainment. 

The adjacent paracosms are usually set in a futuristic version of our universe. A future where the government has shut down and archived the internet.  A future where there’s a desolate wasteland of a city. Other times it’s just a vague story setting like the suburbs.

40. Do you do research for your daydreams? How much? How often? How deep?

If I end up writing them I do. I also research once aspects of reality come in, but not purposely for the daydream. It bothers me in general when a story has inaccuracies if I can help it.

41. What was your first maladaptive daydreaming experience? Do you remember it? How did you feel about it?

I remember it, but I won’t recap it. It was weird but I was so young but I don’t think it bothered me. 

42. When did you know what you did was different?

As soon as I realized that people a) grow out of their imaginary friends and b) that imaginary friends weren’t supposed to be fully formed people ten years older than you.

43. Do you ever daydream through the perspectives of paras of the opposite sex? How is it?

No. I definitely have full control over how they act, just not from a first person point of view. 

44. Do you experience any confusion between fantasy and reality? Does daydreaming leave you in a haze or in a dazed state?

No, I tend to have a very firm grip between my daydreams and my real life. I think it’s mainly because I’ve always kept myself out of my daydreams as a prevention because I know subconsciously that if I don’t I’d get too easily sucked into them.

45. If you have a parame, do you experience any dysphoria because of them?

I don’t have one.

46. Do you ever rewind your daydreams and re-daydream old material?

If it’s a music video sequence, yes. I also do it if I’m starting a new storyline and I’m trying to iron out the kinks,

47. Do you remember your daydreams in detail?

Yes. 

48. Do you edit your daydreams? To what extent? How often/how much does your brain block you from controlling things?

I change details like I did with Galia if it helps everything else make more sense. I also change details to line up with the real world when I can, but other times I don’t care enough because it’s literally me entertaining myself, so who cares. I also find that the more imperfect things are, the easier it is for me to hold onto reality.

49. Do you get excited when you see or hear a para’s name in thisverse? When you see someone who looks like them? When you see something you associate with them?

I don’t remember seeing anyone who looks like an OC but I’d be unnerved if I did. I love meeting people who have less common OC names and if an OC is based off of someone in any way, it makes me feel more connected to them. I don’t associate things actively with OCs since they’re usually aesthetics or topics I enjoy.

50. How might you describe maladaptive daydreaming to someone who does not experience it?

It’s daydreaming if your daydreams ran like a movie that you could never turn off and are constantly trying not to watch.


I feel it’s important to remind you that I’m just one person and that MADD affects everybody differently. Hopefully it will be added to the next DSM as a disorder but as for now there is still speculation over its legitimacy. But with each day and each emerging anecdote we see, MADD may be more of a reality than anyone could have imagined it to be.

I hope you gained insight into the mind of a maladaptive daydreamer with my answers.