Storythinking

After several months of lethargy and procrastination, I’m (at last!) making progress with my work. Well, largely anyways. I’m plagued by a drifting mind; I’ll be typing along quite happily, then my mind will float off and I begin to daydream. These daydreams aren’t unpleasant, but, clearly, they are a distraction. I’m wondering if I’m (unconsciously) somehow trying to undermine myself; I’ve stopped the obvious attempts at self-sabotage--watching bad television, staying abed until late morning, drinking while working, etc, so I’m finding fresh ways to escape. Because these daydreams are all about escapism.

Like most children, I had a habit of daydreaming. I would obsess over my little fantasies--I would go into great detail, fine-tuning each story until it would play as smoothly as a film in my mind. I would drift off into my stories while sitting at school, walking anywhere, or watching television. If something pulled me away from my daydream (being called on by a teacher, for example, or being told by my mother to get out of the house--to get outside and play “like normal kids”) I would think carefully about where I was in my story and place a virtual bookmark there. When I was able to return to the fantasy, I would “open” at the scene last played.

I expect the daydreaming was a means of maintaining sanity, of self protection, of backing away from the life I dreaded and placing myself in a world where I was in control.

I was seldom “in the moment” as a child, I think. I am a bit more so know, but I reclaim that daydreaming tendency periodically. And now it’s while I’m trying to work. And I’m working on something I love. Go figure.