There once was a little boy whose life was filled with fear and uncertainty. Much of his time was spent hidden in his bedroom with his books, comics, and drawing pads. This littleboy escaped into a world of fantasy. Most often he pressed his imaginary button to become invisible, or entered his time machine that would rendeer him invulnerable and take him to anytime on the planet.
As he grew into adulthood, he continued to escape from unpleasant realities. Although he no longer relied on comic book fantasies to get him through, he found other ways to isolate himself. He worked two jobs, found happiness in eating much or not eating anything. Or he became obsessed with jogging. Just before his 30th birthday, it dawned on him that hs ongoing escapes were keeping him trapped in that same bedroom of the past. He realized that he wasnt really growing or getting anywhere, and that nothing would ever change unless he began dealing with his feelings, fears, and pain. It was time to stop running away, he saw, and to start living in the here and now. I wrote this in my journal about three years ago, yeah I still look back from time to time, nothing wrong with that. I'm wondering if I am allowing myself to grow emotionally, or am I locking myself back in that room at times. As Mike said to me the other day, you need to go see your therapist. :)