A Message for the Compulsive Daydreamers

I suffered a fairly influential concussion two years ago. I say influential, because I am unaware of the physical severity of it, although I am told that in the emergency room they thought, for at least a moment, that they might need to drill a hole in my skull, to drain the blood. Not exactly indicative of the bruising, but it says something, anyways.

The influence of the concussion was how it affected my personality and my perception of reality. For quite some time I suffered from depression months afterwards due to other life events, which may have also played a part in my change of character. One other factor would be my first time use of psychedelic drugs, shortly after the concussion.

I suppose I am not very sure which of the three caused the shift inside me. In truth, it is very likely that all three had a substantial impact, as a man is shaped by all events in his life, and these three events are quite large ones, to be sure.

So what were the changes? I have noticed many differences. The first being an increase in orderliness. I have heard that this is quite a common change, post-concussion. I find myself unable to simply make a mess and leave it for later. I feel a strong desire to have my work and play areas clean or at least, an orderly mess, at just about all times of the day. I changed the way in which I approach daily chores and I introduced better organization into how I stow my clothing, dishes, etc. I also became one to make his bed each morning, which previously, I had not been.

I also grew in the area of creativity and imagination. Perhaps excessively so, as this has become debilitating for me. I would say that I also grew in the area of neuroticism (the likelihood of having negative thoughts), but this may be because of my increase in my imagination.

You see, my imagination and creativity increase has exponentially increased my love for art. In the more distant past, I enjoyed video games, music, movies and television, but was not one for books, or visual art. I am now an avid reader, I no longer enjoy the majority of television and movies (because while they are an art form, they are more commonly used as entertainment, to be capitalized on), nor do I enjoy video games as dearly (aside from my love of their story and visual beauty), and I took up the learning of an instrument, which I had never attempted before. Another new value for me has been that I now enjoy writing, prose and poetry, and I keep a journal with me at nearly all times.

The changes in my personae have, above all else, made me a more active participant in life, rather than one who life was simply happening to.

There is a dark side to this though, as I believe it is my constant day dreaming which gives rise to neurotic thought. One of the biggest ways this became noticeable to me is that I no longer enjoy smoking marijuana. Before my concussion, I had been an avid user. These days, my excessive day-dreaming is only accelerated to a gut-churning level when using "weed." Alcohol has also become far less enjoyable. Stimulants, like tobacco and coffee, on the other hand, I now enjoy much more, for the precise reason that they pull me out of my head and into reality.

Today, I have taken 10 mg of Methylphenidate, a stimulant used for ADHD, to great effect. I am able to comprehend more clearly what I read, and I am able to better articulate myself, as I can focus on the thoughts and ideas which I want to express in a consecutive manner. It helps that I am not being distracted by many thoughts at once, which may all be good, but attempting to articulate them all at once would make them all appear quite silly. The drug has helped me to regulate my compulsive day dreaming. Under its influence, I feel as if I am perceiving reality in a more truthful lens.

The effect the drug has had on my mood cannot be understated. As stated above, I believed that I had become more neurotic after my concussion, but I now believe that it was instead my over-active imagination causing my perceived depression, as it pulled me from reality and into a world of constant thought. I became one to believe, at least halfheartedly, delusions of grandeur and I became somewhat of a Megalomaniac. In the last two years when sober, I occasionally had trouble interacting with others, as I started to doubt their existence, through thoughts of Solipsism.

My final delusion was that I should not seek help. I became quite withdrawn from people, ever hiding a deeper problem from myself and others. I did not want to speak to a neurologist or psychiatrist, out of fear they would force a drug upon me. Interesting, how the neuroses I was suffering from seemed to appear in my conscious mind to stop me from stopping them. It was only upon taking this drug that I could stop the delusions enough, to reflect on them accurately.

I do not mean to encourage the use of Methylphenidate or any other drugs. My purpose has been to illustrate the ways in which you can be deceiving yourself if ever you encounter similar problems. If you have doubts about your mental state, it would never hurt to speak to a neurologist, psychologist, or psychiatrist. Perhaps you're as clear headed as you believed yourself to be, or perhaps not. But if so, there is a path to improvement. Don't deny yourself that.