Some call it a gift, some call it a mental illness. What inspired me to write this?
Today I went to the ATM to collect money. At the point where it says ”Remove Card To Proceed” all of a sudden (as is usual with me), I found myself staring at the screen for a considerable amount of time before I came back to my senses, removed the card and got out of the shop.
It reminded me how this constant provocation of dreamy thoughts cripples me daily. Much time is wasted because I slip out of whatever it is I’m doing and become lost in a world of random thought.
For example when leaving the house it takes me a long time to leave that by the time I get into the car my wife and kids are sitting there and she looks at me and says ”we’ve been here a very long time.”
What am I doing you might ask? I catch myself doing it eventually and leave the house but I am walking around, up and down the stairs several times and at moments stopping to stare into space and I zone out.
I’m always thinking, arguing then thinking and arguing. I create random argumentative topics in my head then I argue against my own arguments. Stringing words together in my head for a song that I’ll never record or even put to paper and then forgetting those words.
I get a total loss of focus and so by the time I set out to do a task, unless someone is there to push me, I’ve forgotten the task already and where I’m meant to be.
That person who pushes me can be the shop assistant, watching me stand there and waiting for me to key in my pin to pay for the goods. Depending on what mode of thought I’m in and the environment my reaction can vary.
If I’m at the piano or playing the guitar, struggling to find the words and someone interrupts I become extremely upset because my train of thought has been compromised and the innocent party often seen as the offender.
Even when writing this blog post I can zone in and out for lengthy periods of time.
We all experience being a dreamer and my earliest memory of being called one at the tender age of 5 is still fresh in my mind. To add insult to injury my mother has a photo of me doing it somewhere.
My dreaming however is extreme, and it’s crippling but I’d never take drugs to rectify it because I don’t really see it as a mental illness as some decent songs I wrote were a result of it too.