Maladaptive Daydreaming: Living Between Two Worlds

Hello Dreamers,

Let’s get personal for a second. Maladaptive daydreaming isn’t just something I’ve read about—it’s something I’ve lived.

It started for me as a kid. I had terrible nightmares, the kind where you wake up sweating and too scared to close your eyes again. My mom, trying to help, told me something I’ve never forgotten: “It’s your mind, so you can change your dreams if you want.”

It seemed impossible at first, but eventually, I figured it out. Nightmares became my trigger to realize, “Hey, I’m dreaming.” By around six years old, I’d learned how to lucid dream. This might sound weird, but my go-to move was to change the nightmare into the same peaceful place I called “my screensaver.” It was simple: just a quiet neighborhood with houses on both sides of the street, small lawns, and white picket fences. Trees dotted the street here and there, the sky was clear, and the sun felt warm on my skin. Occasionally, I’d hear a car driving off in the distance. I always stayed in the same spot, just standing there, letting the calm wash over me until I woke up.

Even though I can’t lucid dream quite like that anymore, those nightmares still hold a strange power. If I have one today, I can use it to snap into lucidity.

But the real shift came when I started creating worlds. As I was falling asleep, I’d slip into these imagined places—safe spaces full of adventure and magic. And then, as I got older, those worlds didn’t stay confined to the night. I’d find myself daydreaming while I was awake, replaying scenes or expanding those same worlds I built when I was six.

Escaping to the World Inside My Head

Here’s the thing: I can daydream for hours. Hours. It’s not a casual “zone-out” moment; it’s immersive and intense, like watching a movie where I’m the star, the writer, and the director all at once.

And I’ve noticed something: I daydream way more when I’m stressed. There was a time when I lost my job and was living in an expensive apartment in Boston, worried about bills and my next step. It was so easy—almost too easy—to slip into the world inside my head, where I didn’t have to worry about rent or resumes or what came next. In that space, I could be anything. Someone powerful, loved, successful… someone whose life felt far less messy than my own.

Maladaptive daydreaming gave me an escape, but sometimes, it pulled me so far away that reality felt harder to face. It’s both a comfort and a crutch, and finding balance is not easy.

Worlds Both Borrowed and Built

If you’re a chronic daydreamer like me, you probably know what it’s like to live in two places at once:

1. The Ones You Borrow: I’ll be honest—sometimes I place myself in existing worlds, ones already built by someone else. Harry Potter? Been there. My Hero Academia? Absolutely. Whether I’m flying on a broomstick or training for U.A. High, those worlds feel just as real when I step into them.

   
   

2. The Ones You Build: Then there’s that world I built when I was six, the one I’ve carried with me ever since. It’s grown and changed as I have, expanding with new characters, cities, and stories. It’s a place only I know, where I can step in anytime and see how far I’ve come. It’s like revisiting an old friend—one I’ve nurtured, shaped, and made my own.

   
   

Sometimes I wonder what it means to hold so many worlds in my head. It feels like both a gift and a burden. They’re my spaces—places where I can escape, explore, and feel something real. But they also remind me how easy it is to lose hours, even days, to something no one else can see.

Finding Peace Between Dreaming and Living

Here’s what I’ve learned: maladaptive daydreaming isn’t about shutting it down. It’s about learning how to carry those worlds with you without letting them steal your life away.

If you’re like me and find yourself getting lost in daydreams, here are a few things to try:

1. Honor Your Imagination The worlds you build matter. Write them down. Sketch them. Talk about them. There’s nothing “wrong” with your imagination—it’s proof of how vast your mind really is.

   
   

2. Watch for When You’re Escaping Ask yourself: Why am I slipping into my daydream right now? Stress? Boredom? Loneliness? Sometimes understanding what you’re avoiding helps you come back to the present more gently.

   
   

3. Ground Yourself with Purpose You don’t have to leave your daydreams behind, but you do need to remember the life you’re building here. Try small grounding habits:

   • Go for a walk or move your body.

   • Set a timer for “dream time,” then return to something real.

   • Remind yourself: “The life I want isn’t just in my head. I can create it here, too.”

     
     

4. Use Your Worlds as Fuel What if the worlds you dream of are pointing you toward something real? A story you need to write, a skill you want to learn, a version of yourself you want to become. Use your daydreams as inspiration to build something in this world.

Embracing Both Worlds

Maladaptive daydreaming might feel overwhelming, but it’s also part of what makes us Dreamers. It’s not about shutting down the worlds we’ve created—it’s about making sure we don’t forget to show up for the one we’re living in now.

Those worlds I built at six? They’re still with me, expanded and alive. But today, I’m learning how to carry them alongside the real adventures I want to have: the stories I write, the goals I set, and the life I’m still building—day by day, piece by piece.

So, Dreamers, don’t feel guilty for escaping sometimes. Just promise yourself you’ll come back. Because you deserve to make this world just as magical as the ones in your head.

Sweet dreams (and awake ones too), Slumber Chronicles