Auntie SparkNotes: I Diagnosed Myself with Maladaptive Daydreaming

Dear Auntie SparkNotes,

I found an article online describing a relatively recent mental health issue called maladaptive daydreaming. If you are unfamiliar with it, it is essentially where a reoccurring daydream becomes an addictive behavior, interfering with day to day life. I began researching this condition, due to some suspicions I had about this applying to me. Soon I began to realize that I match up with nearly every symptom. I have a regularly occurring character, let’s call him A, in each daydream. I spend anywhere from half to a quarter of my time with A. My daydreams are triggered by media, predominately music. I use the character as a release, typically having God-awful things happen to him—the stuff of horror movies (which fascinate me, but I cannot watch due to my parents’ and my own beliefs). Mostly, these daydreams tempt me into doing things against my religion.

I know that self-diagnosis is tricky and typically a terrible idea, so I would like an expert opinion. The problem is, my parents are very much no-fuss, no-drama sort of people. (My mom was my best friend when I was being badly bullied in first grade before being treated like garbage by my peers through eighth grade. My dad is the most hardworking and logical person I know, and easily one of the smartest. In other words, they are very good people, and they care about me.) I love them and generally agree with them, but I’m concerned they will believe I’m just being dramatic.

Earlier this year, I was trying to see if there was a way to improve my eating habits when I found out about binge-eating disorder. Again, it looked like something I might have. I proposed asking the dietetic intern my doctor had recommended about it, and my mom accused me of simply trying to find an excuse for my behavior. I tried to explain to her that I was just looking to see of this could maybe offer up some other options or if it could explain why I wasn’t doing so well, no matter how hard I tried. She wouldn’t listen at all and just kept accusing me.

I’m worried my mom will lash out again if I try to explain why I think I might have maladaptive daydreaming. Am I crazy or obsessed with self-diagnosis? I’ve only found these two things. How do I explain to my mom what’s going on?

Unfortunately, Sparkler, I think the answer to that last question is… well, you don’t.

At least, not just yet, because you’re going to have a hell of a time explaining anything to a person who’s made it clear that she’s not interested in understanding it. Based on the way your mom responded the last time you brought up a behavioral health issue, she’s not going to take the idea of maladaptive daydreaming any more seriously than she took the idea of you having a binge eating disorder—and any conversation you try to have on the subject is going to be upsetting, discouraging, and unlikely to end with any sort of satisfactory solution to what’s bothering you.

And that’s even before we get to the part where what’s actually bothering you may well not be what you think is bothering you. You’re right to be leery of self-diagnosis; it’s basically never a good idea. It disregards the education and expertise that goes into a true clinical diagnosis (which is more complicated than most people realize), accomplishes nothing in terms of connecting you with the treatment you need, and sometimes even derails people from getting appropriate, necessary support. And that’s especially true in the case of mental health issues, where there’s so much overlap between so many various disorders—many of which by their very nature skew a person’s perception of their own behavior—that it really takes an unbiased professional to figure out what the root cause of your problem is. For instance, you’ve diagnosed yourself as suffering from two different conditions: maladaptive daydreaming and binge eating disorder. But both of these things could just as easily be symptoms of a single overarching condition like OCD… or, for that matter, they could be the byproduct of a state of affairs that isn’t medical in nature at all.

Like, say, being a teenager with overbearing parents and a super-strict religious upbringing.

Which you clearly are, sweet pea, and that’s something we do have to talk about. I’m sure your parents are loving and wonderful people, but they clearly aren’t giving you much space to push the limits, explore your identity, or question the status quo that makes you talk about “my and my parents beliefs” as though there’s no discernible difference between their minds and yours. And when a person doesn’t have that space to grow, change, ask questions, and explore their individuality in their day-to-day life, it’s pretty much inevitable that they’ll start looking for it elsewhere… including in a daydream scenario that lets them indulge the interests they’re otherwise forbidden from exploring.

In other words, Sparkler, these fantasies of yours could be a compulsive behavior, but they could also be a natural and understandable response to an environment that’s pretty repressive in certain ways, in which you’re desperate to spread your wings without inviting backlash from your folks. And while I understand the allure of a label like “maladaptive daydreaming,” because there’s comfort in the idea that this is something you suffer from rather than something you’re choosing, you must realize: lots of people question their religious beliefs, or feel tempted to do things that fall outside the bounds of what’s allowed, and neither of these things mean that something’s wrong with them. You don’t need to have a condition to have questions, or taboo fascinations, or subversive thoughts.

So unless your daydreams are actually interfering with your life (and if they are, you haven’t mentioned it), I wouldn’t be so quick to decide that they’re a sickness, or even a bad thing. You said it yourself: this is a form of release, which is something that every person needs. So rather than looking for a diagnosis that will officially label your daydreams as something unhealthy and unnatural, I’d like you to first ask yourself why you think you need one. Would it be so awful to admit that you’re just interested in this stuff? Or to consider that letting yourself explore it within the confines of your imagination is not just okay, but a healthy form of escapism that you don’t need to feel guilty about? Or to accept that your beliefs will inevitably differ from your parents’ in certain ways, not because you are bad or wrong, but because you’re an individual with her own mind?

To be clear, I’m not saying it’s impossible that your daydreaming could end up being a problem (although if it is, it’ll be because of the way it interferes with your life, work, and relationships, not because the content of your daydreams goes against what you’re “supposed” to be thinking.) But for right now, I’d like you to entertain the possibility that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you, and move forward accordingly, and see how that works out. For one thing, it might give you the peace and perspective you need to get on with your life without further ado. But even if it doesn’t, you still need to eliminate it as a potential solution before you enter the murky and difficult territory of battling your skeptical parents for access to mental health care. If your folks are the kind of people who think that eating disorders are just a fake cop-out to excuse irresponsible behavior, you’re going to have a hell of a time convincing them that you need to discuss your intrusive daydreams with a psychiatrist—and if they won’t be convinced, you may be stuck waiting until you’re out of the house to pursue treatment.

But that’s why you’re going to try this other thing first. It can’t hurt. It might help. And with a little luck, it’ll turn out that your daydreams aren’t maladaptive at all, but a useful, normal step on the road to becoming your own person.

Got something to say? Tell us in the comments! And to get advice from Auntie, email her at advice@sparknotes.com.
Want more info about how this column works? Check out the Auntie SparkNotes FAQ.