Becoming Alice in Wonderland
Why I spend half my days living different lives
I spend half of my day living different lives.
Sometimes, I’m a student at Hogwarts. I spend most of my time with my childhood friend Neville Longbottom in the greenhouse because it’s quiet and the Slytherin kids rarely stop by. Butterflies dance in my stomach when I’m around him, but I don’t dare say anything. I’d rather suppress my feelings than risk losing him as a friend.
Other times, I’m a hunter from the show Supernatural plotting revenge against the vampires who murdered my parents. Orphaned, I live with the Winchester brothers in their underground bunker. The boys promised to help me hunt the monster who killed my family, but they’re too slow. Instead, I turn to dark magic to complete my mission.
As dark and twisted as some of my fantasies are, these moments of escapism bring me delight. I let my mind wander. I create complex storylines and character arcs, waiting for the moment when I can let go of reality. When I daydream, I lose myself in the characters I create. I am no longer Jasmine Gidney, the soon-to-be graduate with a cultural identity crisis. Instead, I’m the katana-wielding heroine who saves the world alongside my favourite fictional characters.
While most people daydream, mine are more intense. It’s called maladaptive daydreaming. Eli Somer, a clinical psychology professor at the University of Haifa interviewed for a Vice article, described maladaptive daydreaming as an “excessive fantasy activity that replaces human interaction and/or interferes with academic interpersonal or vocational functioning.”
Yes, sometimes my daydreams interfere with my day-to-day life.
One minute, I’m taking notes and listening to a lecture lecture on the dangers of social media. The next minute I’m at the Avenger’s headquarters helping Tony Stark with his latest suit. By the time I snap back to reality, the lecture is over. I have a half a page of useless notes and the only thing I know is that Tony likes to hide snacks around his workshop.
But most of the time, I need to take a moment to detach from reality.
As 2012’s Deadpool said, “Life is an endless series of train wrecks with only brief, commercial-like breaks of happiness.”
Daydreaming is my commercial break. My life isn’t a train wreck, but sometimes I need a break from the world. I know I wouldn’t have survived 2020 without being able to escape to a different reality every night.
Between the global pandemic and the racist attacks against Asians, the thought of leaving my apartment made my chest tighten. Lockdown rules prevented me from hanging out with my friends, who usually distracted me from my anxieties and paranoia.
I had a hard time trying to think about what delighted me. There are simple pleasures, like long walks in Odell Park or cooking a new recipe. But I’m always paranoid that someone will murder me when I’m walking in the park, and I’m upset when my new recipe doesn’t turn out right. The only thing that kept me sane, and brought me any sense of happiness, were my daydreams.
What delighted me most wasn’t in this world; it was in the worlds I created.
Lying in bed, listening to Billie Eilish, I let my mind drift. The weight on my chest leaves as I slip into a different reality. A reality where I’m the hero, where I’m free of anxieties and where I am truly happy.
About the author
Jasmine Gidney is a fourth-year journalism student at St. Thomas University in Fredericton, New Brunswick. Her love of journalism began when she volunteered at The Digby Courier in Grade 12 for a co-op placement. She continued to follow her passion when she began STU in 2017 where she joined the university’s newspaper, The Aquinian, as a reporter. In September 2019, Gidney became the features editor where she strived to tell diverse stories. She created a bi-weekly column called Home where students from different cultures could express what home meant to them. Now, Gidney is the 2020–21 managing editor for The Aquinian. When she’s not rushing to meet a deadline or tracking down someone to interview, you can find Gidney at the movie theatre or exploring Fredericton. This story was written for the Senior Seminar in Journalism on the subject of delight.
