but if the mind talks to itself, isn’t it just saying what it wants to hear?
my life in my head is so much more interesting
They were right for needing someone to talk to. I’m not really talkative when it comes to others. That could possibly be a lie because I often catch myself inadvertently talking, opening my mouth to utter words, complaining too much about minor inconveniences that a sane person could overcome with and move on in under a minute. Sometimes I blurt out whatever comes to my mind, even if it doesn't align with the topic or make sense at all. I think it’s humorous. It’s funny. I mean, have you ever sent an off-topic image in the middle of a conversation — bonus points if there was a heated argument occurring — and giggled to yourself before hitting the ‘send’ button?
It’s so easy yet so hard at the same time to make me laugh. To my astonishment, for someone who cannot manage to open up, to let them get a glimpse of your vulnerability without shying away in disgust, and talk about your hobbies and interests free from the fear of being ridiculed. I genuinely enjoy talking. I love talking. I love asking and answering questions. I love getting to know others. I want to know what you think of me. Or the books you’ve recently read. I want to know if you also enjoy spending time walking in circles inside the bookstore, sniffing and checking out every book you see before you decide to buy it. I wonder what happened to the lollipop stick you accidentally swallowed when you were a toddler, is it still there? Do you enjoy looking out through the window meticulously, trying to find something that may pique your interest, or imbue your never-ending boredom with joy and contentment? I do, if you asked me. I want to know you. I am a relentless parasite that is eager to get inside your mind. A parasite that wants to anticipate what you’ll do, what you’ll wear, and so much more. I always struggle to approach someone I really want to talk to again. It feels embarrassing, like do I just say, 'Hi, I'd love to chat with you again. If it's bothersome, feel free to shoot me in the head.'
When I feel lonely I romanticise my life to keep myself away from loneliness. To simply make myself forget how mundane my life is. Devoid of love and excitement. The same thing happens every day. I can already guess how I’ll spend the day, weeks, and months with the same routine and mistakes and events, literally everything repeating endlessly. Nothing remarkable seems to happen in my life.
The aching desire to make the life I wish I had to be tangible. Everything and nothing is happening inside my mind simultaneously. Hundreds of ideas seeking to be made, penned in a paper or typed in a document. Or maybe uttered. It’s terrifying to think of the possible things our mind can make us do. Thinking becomes incredibly powerful when you're lonely and no one seems to be capable of providing the comfort you desperately need. You can create someone inside your mind to help you through. Nobody can rule your mind but you.
For the past few years, I have developed a habit of daydreaming to occupy myself or to simply escape whatever problem I have. I seek to desperately distract myself from the never-ending horrors of the world. I never knew having a staring competition with a blank wall or ceiling could be so entertaining. I am in love with the man I crafted inside my head. I am aware they aren’t real and I'll never encounter someone who perfectly embodies him, but I do feel comforted when I daydream about different scenarios with him. Like discussing which book is better, exchanging handwritten letters, or even engaging in ordinary everyday activities. Everything I do, I imagine he is there with me. His presence is almost palpable. I am infatuated with him to the point where I can’t have a proper crush because I will compare anyone to him. Daydreaming is addictive because I have the ability to control them. He represents the qualities I appreciate and seek and I find lovable. He is exactly like who I want to be. ‘Do I want him or do I want to be him?’
Of course, I like to write but I wouldn’t call myself a writer, that’s too much commitment. That could be the reason why I daydream a lot. I like to write because I have full control of the events and I can make the person behave the way I want to. I imagine some of the characters I have written helping me out or simply being with me. I’ll check out books that I think ‘Edith’ would have loved or maybe ‘Elaine’ would feel compelled to walk with me under the scorching sun. Maybe this is all because of my excessive reading too — books, fan fiction, comics, anything that has a character that I seem to like. (How to be sincere without sounding pretentious?) I remember a few months ago, I had a big fat crush on the infamous Henry Winter of ‘The Secret History’ novel by Donna Tartt. I know he wasn’t exactly someone prone to be likeable but I could not get him out of my head. I think of him a lot. Sometimes I find myself talking to them as if they were an actual person.
One time a relative of mine caught me talking to myself, it was the most embarrassing thing that ever occurred in my life, I felt like exploding and disappearing like a bomb. This whole daydreaming stuff has started to take a toll on me. My attention span got worse and I tend to get distracted easily. I remember, last year, I was completely not listening during my science class because I could not fight the urge to stop daydreaming. I can’t even manage to finish my homework on time or completely put my focus on studying, procrastination held me tight in its arms.
The more I indulge in my imagination, the harder it is to fall for somebody for who they truly are. The harder it will be to love real people. Because I know they will not meet whatever quality I seek in a person. They won’t adjust and behave like the way I want them to. They won’t do things I want or engage in discussing topics that I think they’ll find intriguing. It’s so hard to like someone I am close with too. If I barely know them or solely find them attractive, maybe it would be easier. I could fill out the blanks to make them the ideal companion. I could erase this and that inside my head and it’ll be easier to fall in love with them. I do this with fictional characters or celebrities I am attached to and attracted to. Now, why do I always feel the need to force myself to fall in love?
There's a myriad of things to daydream of but why is it that I constantly think about love? Is this how deprived I am? When I engage in an imaginary conversation, the topics are always what I want to talk about. The scenarios I imagine are always what I want to happen in my life. I constantly think of the experiences and conversations I yearn to have because I know I have no one else to do it with. I have close friends and I deeply appreciate them and all the things we went through together but I still feel lonely. I can’t even get myself to open up to them and talk about my problems. Even though I know they'll always be there for me to help me regardless of how ridiculous my problems are, but I can’t help but think that I should only exist for jokes and giggles because whenever I manage to share my feelings, I can't help but feel embarrassed the following day. It’s like I don’t even believe in my own words, I can’t take myself seriously. I can’t even get myself to be honest with myself. I talk with my imaginary person about the things I can’t bring myself to talk about, spilling the words I wish to speak aloud, essentially vomiting out the sentences I feel unable to utter in reality. But sometimes I can’t even put whatever I am feeling into words.
Although, I think I can make use of daydreaming to help me write better stories rather than letting it distort my reality and life. Daydreaming a lot is important for a writer, required even. Inside my head, I could be everything and anywhere. Mentally, I might be in my early or late 20s and have already invented the future I want to face. I have already accomplished everything I wish to do and experienced everything I desire. But physically, I am just a little girl who seeks to speak and experience rather than think or write it down. That's the simplest way I can conclude whatever this whole situation is. Maybe the most straight forward way to summarise all of this is to accept that life and everything in it are undeniably complicated. In such a dead world Amelíe prefers to dream.
I have been going to the library to get work done for the past year -- not because of "body doubling" or whatever other tiktok adhd hack terms are trending -- but because working in a place where they will literally kick me out for talking to myself is the only way I can get any modest amount of work done. All these trending hacks about decreasing screen time and putting your phone down don't help me when my own head seems to be the most distracting thing around me. Thank you so much for posting this. I can't really place the pathology of being overwhelmingly Stuck in your own head, but it sure seems to be one to me.
daydreaming sometimes feels safer than facing reality; it's often a way to escape to more peaceful places, your writing resonated deeply with me, and the way you expressed it so poetically inspired me to keep writing and not give up, even when it’s challenging.
so thank you