Post by porpus on Jun 29, 2020 15:24:03 GMT
I don't know if any of you use Daydreaming as a coping mechanism but this is my take on my own experiences. This is less a realization and more a horribly kept secret. Mostly I'm writing this down just cause it's nice to write these things down, helps me make sense of things. Yes, for me daydreaming is an escape, but more than that its also a window to numerous different worlds of endless possibilities, where I could be the person I feel I could never be. The motivation in diving into these worlds is my utterly unhealthy and deep rooted self-hatred.
Truth is for as long as I remember I've never really liked myself. At first it was kinda a back of my head feeling, as if I felt there was something wrong in the background and later on it just grew to full-blown resentment. Now I'm not going to dive into the specifics because that's not the point. Now growing up I often found solace in my favorite shows as an escape. I would see the protagonist as the ultimate representation of what I wanted to be. Soon enough it wasn't enough to just see these things I wanted to live them, to be someone I felt I could never be. I started making my own stories based on these shows, similar characters (with replacements to represent people in my actual life i.e the crush, the bully, the parents, the friends), similars settings etc but I would make the story my own. The worlds would be different, but they always followed the same basic narrative route: a person underestimated, scorned, forgotten and betrayed only to return like a prodigal son with awesome power (whatever form it may take). I'd make people realize they were wrong about me, that I was special not mundane, impressive not disappointing, strong not weak. Funny enough in these worlds it's never really me. Rather it's someone else that I know represent me. It's funny though isn't it, not even in my dreams can I visualize myself on that high pedestal
I'm going to be honest my actions sometimes post-return weren't always altruistic. Sometimes I was cruel and vindictive. I'd exact a terrible revenge to those that doubted me, other times it was more of a redemption type deal. All these worlds embodied both my worst fears and my brightest hopes. The fear that I truly was worthless, that I was no one that deserved nothing, and the hope that maybe I'm something more. It's a year's long story that continues to this day. I guess that's why it's kinda addicting for me. The rush I feel when I picture the rise, that moment when I see that everything I hate about me is gone, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, its quite indescribable. Its actually the only time I get to feel that way, the only time I feel that hope I could never find in reality. Well that's my story, just a
lonely kid with a wild imagination. The only thing left for me to wonder is how long can it last before reality just comes crashing down. I hope I'm not alone in this, and if I'm not whoever you are I say this: I feel ya pain.
Truth is for as long as I remember I've never really liked myself. At first it was kinda a back of my head feeling, as if I felt there was something wrong in the background and later on it just grew to full-blown resentment. Now I'm not going to dive into the specifics because that's not the point. Now growing up I often found solace in my favorite shows as an escape. I would see the protagonist as the ultimate representation of what I wanted to be. Soon enough it wasn't enough to just see these things I wanted to live them, to be someone I felt I could never be. I started making my own stories based on these shows, similar characters (with replacements to represent people in my actual life i.e the crush, the bully, the parents, the friends), similars settings etc but I would make the story my own. The worlds would be different, but they always followed the same basic narrative route: a person underestimated, scorned, forgotten and betrayed only to return like a prodigal son with awesome power (whatever form it may take). I'd make people realize they were wrong about me, that I was special not mundane, impressive not disappointing, strong not weak. Funny enough in these worlds it's never really me. Rather it's someone else that I know represent me. It's funny though isn't it, not even in my dreams can I visualize myself on that high pedestal
I'm going to be honest my actions sometimes post-return weren't always altruistic. Sometimes I was cruel and vindictive. I'd exact a terrible revenge to those that doubted me, other times it was more of a redemption type deal. All these worlds embodied both my worst fears and my brightest hopes. The fear that I truly was worthless, that I was no one that deserved nothing, and the hope that maybe I'm something more. It's a year's long story that continues to this day. I guess that's why it's kinda addicting for me. The rush I feel when I picture the rise, that moment when I see that everything I hate about me is gone, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, its quite indescribable. Its actually the only time I get to feel that way, the only time I feel that hope I could never find in reality. Well that's my story, just a
lonely kid with a wild imagination. The only thing left for me to wonder is how long can it last before reality just comes crashing down. I hope I'm not alone in this, and if I'm not whoever you are I say this: I feel ya pain.
