Tuesday, January 24, 2012
lost in my mind
My journal is the clearest evidence that I spend more time in my head than anywhere else. All those pages of psychoanalysis and ramblings are what I deal with every day, in a much less organized manner. My mind is both a terrible and delightful place to be. Terrible, lately, because it's crazy in there and nothing makes sense, and it's awfully depressing a lot of the time. It can be delightful when it's a place for memories and wishes and dreams to convalesce but when those thoughts that inhabit it aren't as lovely, well, that's when I need to get out.
I need an escape, and there are all sorts. Sometimes, I listen to music but more often than not I find a way to relate the lyrics to my life and end up overthinking again. So I read a book or watch TV. I pretend I'm at Hogwarts or Downton Abbey and I pretend the characters are real, because even though there is ugliness in them, too, they can never hurt me. Everything from my world is forgotten when I slip into theirs.
Maybe so much escapism isn't healthy but certainly being immersed in reality all the time isn't ideal, either.