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dolariIn an earlier (accidentally deleted cause there were two of them and I hate double entries and I couldn't figure out which one had the comment) Vaysha remarked on how much frustration I deal with in this house..
There's a secret as to how I deal with it.
I have a seriously addicting escape.
I go inside my head and watch my characters go through life. I live vicariously through them since they are great successes or nice people or wonderful stories. As of late, I have been neither. It's the same reason people went to movies during the Depression. It's a serious escape. It's also why I create my best stories in times of trouble.
If you ever see me, hunkered over, staring into nowhere, silent, with my eyes wide open (most likely not blinking), it's because I'm in my own fantasyland. And I retreat to it whenever possible. It can be for something as simple as "I need to waste time" or for something as great as "your life here sucks because you have no control over your own life."
I know the difference between reality and my Playland. My characters also know they are characters and not real people. No MPD or no complete withdrawal from society.
But up in my head, they are so real. It almost pains me to draw them because my drawings are NOT what they look like. It's the best translation my hand can make for them. Writing them is the closest I can come to what they are.
And when I'm upset at the family, or have been dealt another knockdown blow, I usually go into my room and go back into my mind. After a day of beign told by The Furies "NO!" I can pop into my mind, and watch a girl become an angel, or watch a madman become the ruler of teh Universe. I can watch the "normal" daily life of two roomies trying to eek out a living. I can have a nice normal existence without the interruptions of being told "You have a job! No you don't!" or "What's the temperature now? What's the temperature now? What's the temperature now? What's the temperature now?" or "You will never be what you want because you're simply not good enough. Aim lower."
When I am down, I can feel good for Andrea, finally growing up and believing herself to be the Angel she only thought she was. Or watching Carrie make music. Or watching Zand play with his son. When I am angry, I can watch Shadows fighting Angels, Allison kicking Carrie out, Zand reshaping his world to something that suits his sick twisted mind.
It's a place I can go to be alone, with the best and worst aspects of myself. A place I can go and be with friends, when I can't get to my real ones.
It's mine.
And they're always glad to see me.
There's a secret as to how I deal with it.
I have a seriously addicting escape.
I go inside my head and watch my characters go through life. I live vicariously through them since they are great successes or nice people or wonderful stories. As of late, I have been neither. It's the same reason people went to movies during the Depression. It's a serious escape. It's also why I create my best stories in times of trouble.
If you ever see me, hunkered over, staring into nowhere, silent, with my eyes wide open (most likely not blinking), it's because I'm in my own fantasyland. And I retreat to it whenever possible. It can be for something as simple as "I need to waste time" or for something as great as "your life here sucks because you have no control over your own life."
I know the difference between reality and my Playland. My characters also know they are characters and not real people. No MPD or no complete withdrawal from society.
But up in my head, they are so real. It almost pains me to draw them because my drawings are NOT what they look like. It's the best translation my hand can make for them. Writing them is the closest I can come to what they are.
And when I'm upset at the family, or have been dealt another knockdown blow, I usually go into my room and go back into my mind. After a day of beign told by The Furies "NO!" I can pop into my mind, and watch a girl become an angel, or watch a madman become the ruler of teh Universe. I can watch the "normal" daily life of two roomies trying to eek out a living. I can have a nice normal existence without the interruptions of being told "You have a job! No you don't!" or "What's the temperature now? What's the temperature now? What's the temperature now? What's the temperature now?" or "You will never be what you want because you're simply not good enough. Aim lower."
When I am down, I can feel good for Andrea, finally growing up and believing herself to be the Angel she only thought she was. Or watching Carrie make music. Or watching Zand play with his son. When I am angry, I can watch Shadows fighting Angels, Allison kicking Carrie out, Zand reshaping his world to something that suits his sick twisted mind.
It's a place I can go to be alone, with the best and worst aspects of myself. A place I can go and be with friends, when I can't get to my real ones.
It's mine.
And they're always glad to see me.
