And so, my level 200 character became her whole self, found her parents who essentially traveled through time, saved the world by the power of espionage, all of them got exiled from their world for breaking some forbidden guardian law, got new siblings on the way, found some otherworldly mad doctor and cured their racial incompatibility, found another otherworldly macguffin that allowed to grant certain psychic powers, overcame their respective spiritual curses, and then is welcomed by some higher being by passing their respective trials so they'd stop crossing dangerous dimensions to look for a places where they can raise the babies.
And they all lived in a higher realm forever and after.
Fricking, fricking FINALLY!!! That story was over 15 years old!!! AND IT'S OVERRR!!!
It was a darn story in my head that's just going and going and going -- SIIIGGGHHH!!!
My old notes. Yes, most of which are sized A5 or A6 because I like them fit to my shoulder bag...
Despite those... 'Ideas' and story telling in my head, I never plan to be an author of any story.
My writing is atrocious and this isn't coming from some confidence issue or lack of practice.
Most of these 'ideas' are involuntary. Intrusive even. They don't actually interests me, it's just my head. Really.
I was a maladaptive daydreamer.
It was lead and fueled by fanfiction addiction and fiction addictions in general.
I have no real investment nor am a real fan of anything. It's literally just my head.
It's not a preference to me, it's more like a distraction. More of a coping mechanism that I wish I could stop.
Did I said 'was'? Yes. Yes, I did. But later on that.
I guess it started when I was 8? That's when I start being so drawn to TV cartoons that I watch an inappropriate amount that I'm so sure a parent who knows what they're doing would be very concerned over.
Was a night owl by the time I turned 8. By binging cartoons. And sleep a good portion of time at day, even during classes.
Really.
No one asked me why is this. No one reprimanded. No one encouraged...
That addiction went to computers addiction. Games, the internet... Especially at times when I wanted answers and either couldn't word my answers right or that there's no outside reference that can actually help me with my thoughts and situation.
Seriously.
I hated sleep. Not in a brag and trendy way -- I really hate it. I hate human needs. Seen it as a distraction from what I want to keep doing.
So... The usual theme is fantasy adventure. Little to less romantic arcs. Plenty of friendships, some families, internal monologues, etc. Other worlds, alternative universe, etc.
I imagine and daydream based on what I know, what actually did happened, etc. Can be in real life, can be from whatever I watched or read.
And I couldn't stop it. This isn't me. Sure it's entertaining but this isn't what I want.
My head likes it. My conscious doesn't.
My emotions do not help. My vulnerability to stress to do not help.
It's frustrating; it's like the scenarios where my body craves it yet I hate it's taste or feeling.
The addictions made me a bigger procrastinator. And it never gave me a chance to learn moderation.
Moderation became a struggle because I cannot switch or transition from doing something to stopping it quickly.
This also reflects with what I eat.
I waited for years to outgrow this... Along with other issues I had been struggling with from within.
It affects with how I interact with the world. It gave me this layer of ADD-like symptom. Because it's an intrusive thing.
And even if I'm not consciously engaging with it, even if my attention is not in my head -- my processing is still affected.
It also made me have some embarrassing behaviors; like talking dialogues out loud. At work, at public, anywhere.
Reading seem like a good habit of mine but... It's too excessive. And words as medium is not my true inclination and far from my own forte.
If not stories, social interactions then. And it was just as annoying.
Then... Something just happened.
Some time around few days ago; I wish for the story to end. It was around bedtime, almost midnight.
And... Like the countless times I did before; end the story. Finish loose ends. Finish epilogues, etc.
Except...
The book in my head is finally closed.
There lies an inner child, looking at the bookshelf.
Something just... Stopped.
My mind went quiet. So, so quiet. I can physically feel a change; somewhere in my lower left side at the back of my head.
It felt like something had been let go. It's like 10 or so tabs had been closed from my head browser.
And the only automatic thoughts I have is random endless loop of music.
I confronted this inner child. I asked her why; why is she drawn to these stories? What does it mean when she's drawn to certain characters?
Turns out decades of maladaptive daydreaming had been a cover up. It's to avoid my daddy issues and complexes towards family.
When she's drawn to a certain character, it's because there's a trait that she wants to have within a parent.
... My own mom isn't the perfect fit. My dad is another matter...
When she's thinking of other stories, she's thinking of legacies and secrecies. She fantasizes a lot about family and friendships.
Yeah, yeah, I get it. The timeline fits; dad went abroad before I turned 8, realized my own difference from other kids, etc.
Therefore the addictions and daydreaming and all that. And despite my life isn't so bad? But this is something to do with what happened and did not happened as a child.
I confronted it. And I still want to confront them all head on so I can just get over with it.
But I know I cannot force it. It's physically uncomfortable too -- it's this symptom at the back of my neck, going tense and hot.
And despite having a quieter mind... I couldn't sleep. The loops of random music got even louder...
To make me fall asleep again, I either had to tire myself with ASMR or engage in whatever story in my head.
Best to make sure it doesn't last for years, never chronic and never consuming my whole day.
The day after that; I was sleep deprived. I had a job to sub...
... And the change was so weird.
Time became way slower, but none of the impatient and anxiety to just end the whole day already.
I can suddenly switch task faster. Interruptions feels way less painful. My focus is still intact though...
My short term memory issue is still an issue. So, too bad -- I'd still suck at multitasking. I still have my initial issues.
And a layer of internal distraction is gone. There's even way less pull to get into my head anymore.
It just confirms even further that I don't have ADHD, that one major symptom I got was psychological, not my brain's wiring.
I'm so happy with this breakthrough. And that I did it myself.
All day effortless mindfulness... And none of the conscious effort and headache that I associate with continuously practicing mindfulness.
Boredom became weird. I became way more present than I thought was possible.
My automatic generated thoughts are a bit different now. My thought processing is a bit different now.
And I can now directly ask my inner child, the limbic system for asking 'why this thought? why that rabbit hole?'..
... I'll take any mind wandering as a sign; if I ignore it, acknowledge it, or get obsessed with it would be more of my choice than not -- unlike before.
I can choose to comfort her. I can choose to not to. It can be confusing but I certainly can do much better with my emotions now.
The only issue I got now that came with this is another adjustment, especially at sleeping.
All and all...
My head is way, way clearer now. Now that the story is no longer taking over my thoughts, I can focus even more with the outside world, with this life.
Might as well try my best to replace this with something that aligns me more, towards my goals, towards my interests.
And... I'll do my best with any possible repercussions of this change.
So many changes within 2 months.
Most of which are breakthroughs from the things I struggle with for years.
To some, it's an opportunity to be a writer or one of those types and this is a sort of gift they can channel; I'm not one of those types...
I cannot channel this, and it's more of a curse.
To others, it's a matter of survival and sanity. Not me -- it's just an unwilling fixation. My life is not so terrible that I'd run away from it. And this was driving me less sane, making me stifle my chance of survival...
It gets in the way with my independence.
And then to a few, who, just don't want to be stuck in their heads... I tried to take that to a stride due to the nature of my condition.
But to be able to dig this further and actually able to get out...?
I'm in another road where no one else seem to be anywhere again.