Maladaptive Daydreaming Stories Mga Nobela at Kwento

Cara was still deeply immersed in her thoughts as she sat at her desk, scribbling in her diary. Her pen glided across the pages with a sense of urgency, trying to record every detail of the dream that had been haunting her since her therapy session. Her therapist, Jean, had told her that documenting her dreams was crucial to unlocking their hidden meanings, pushing her to be as thorough as possible. It wasn’t just a casual assignment; it was part of her journey to better understand herself, to untangle the threads of her subconscious mind. The idea of writing fiction about her own life felt strange, almost surreal, but Jean had explained that it was a way to externalize her feelings and memo

One…two…three I count silently to myself and jerk my eyes open as I flip back the covers. A whirl wind of emotions flood through me, as I open my eyes and see that I am still wearing my turquoise lacey cotton tank top and matching bikini styled panties I had dressed in before climbing into bed. There was absolutely no sexy caramel coated dream lover with golden tattoos wrapped around his every wonderful muscle lying in my empty bed instead aunt flow paid a very unwanted visit. I collapse back on the bed both sexually and emotionally frustrated with myself for wanting a man so bad, that I made up this unbelievable night with him in my mind. Not only was he a man I knew nothing about, the sic

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“Camilia thinks I’m living in denial.” “What do you think?” “I think I’m living in the space between hope and despair, trying not to fall too far in either direction.” “That sounds like wisdom to me.” “Does it? Because some days I feel like I’m losing my mind. I dream about him every night, and the dreams are so real that I wake up expecting to find him there. I catch myself saving stories to tell him, making plans that include him, buying things for the baby that he will never see.”

Strange daydreams and vivid imaginations would occasionally capture my mind, leaving me feeling unsettled. In these moments, my mind would wander to dark places, conjuring scenarios that triggered my deepest fears. I guess the trauma I had endured had left an indelible mark on my psyche, and it manifested in these restless thoughts. Sometimes, my mind was plagued by recurring daydreams and unsettling visions. In these unfortunate reveries, chaos reigned, and I found myself jolting back to reality whenever I witnessed the Alpha in a state of distress or danger. There was an uncanny connection between my instincts and these disturbing daydreams as if they were trying to warn me of an impending

My pussy was still soaked, my clit throbbing, my nipples tight and aching against my bra from the way his foot had teased up my leg. "Are you even listening?" Maya asked, flopping onto her bed. "Yes. Josh is an idiot. You're better off without him." "Thank you." She studied me. "But seriously, what's wrong with you tonight? You're so distracted." I want to fuck your brother until I forget my own name. I want him to bend me over and pound my dripping cunt while you’re in the next room. "Nothing. Just tired. Work's been insane." "The hotel project?"

Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories. To make it easier to understand and more transparent, this chapter will be like a summary for this and the following volumes. Vol.2: medium stories: The antics of Bia's crew ( ABC) Bia comments on a crew of children of criminals, in an invisible ship. In this world full of magic, demonic beasts and restrictions, they live on the run, abandoned by their parents. Not being accepted anywhere in the world they have to survive on small illegal jobs and from time to time to plunder.

Still lying down, I let my mind take me to another world, which still resembled the real world, in a parallel reality. I could have a taste of what that story would still become. From the plot that would involve from my biggest fears to my most secret fetishes. I began to idealize a dream man in my head, and he was blonde and had almost dark green eyes. And this man who was still an unnamed character, owned a smile that made wrinkles around his eyes, and that had a wide smile. Mentally I was creating this man's personality, wishing he would be kind and honest, and passionate about life.

But I didn’t want to learn it since I had no powers. I tried to interact with what I was seeing, throwing a punch and even trying to kick the woman, but it was like I was a ghost in this dream. I hate feeling useless. I feel that way when I’m awake since I’m the human in the pack. And now I’m useless even in my dreams. So annoying.

“What? What does that even mean?” The doctor folded his arms across his chest, thoughtful. “It’s rare. Sometimes, it’s called Delusional Memory Imprinting. It usually appears after trauma to the brain. The mind can’t stand empty spaces, so it fills the gaps… not with facts, but with long-standing fantasies. The brain mistakes them for real history.” I shifted in my chair. “You mean… he’s making things up?”