Maladaptive Daydreaming Stories Novels & Stories

A shiver ran through me at the word senseless, because yeah, these two had fueled plenty of secret fantasies over the years—always dismissed because (a) they’re madly in love with each other and (b) solidly, undeniably gay. At least, that’s what I’d convinced myself for years. I swallowed more wine. “I resort to p**n now,” I admitted. Jordan leaned in, intrigued. “Quality stuff or creepy algorithm garbage?” “Quality! Female-directed, real chemistry, all that. But it’s… isolating. Like practicing for a sport I’ll never play.” Luca’s hand paused in my hair. I looked up; his hazel eyes were locked on me, intense and unreadable.

"Nik calls them the 'jump'— when my dream would change to another dream. It does feel like jumping for me. So far, the most jumps I had in one night are six. Usually, I'd just get three jumps, or two when I'm lucky. The more jumps I do, the sicker I feel in the morning. So, that time I had five jumps a night, I felt like dying in the morning." Eli went on. "Nik and Noah gave my dreams names. The white room, the free fall, the graveyard, the horde, the dark side, and the beach. In the white room, I'm trapped inside a room that's white everywhere, with no doors or windows. No matter how much I scream, no one can hear me. And then a door will somehow eventually appear, and then I will go throug

Her granny called her almost everyday just to know what she saw the previous night and Juana would tell her everything. Sometimes, Juana didn't see anything at all, sometimes she saw good things, but most times, she had nightmares. When her granny called to ask about her dream the night after she saw something about avocados, Juana refused to tell her about it because it involved someone dying. The person was dying. Not dead. She didn't want to imagine any of her parents or even her granny dying, when she tried to, the imagination hurt her so much she got bad headaches. Juana felt like telling someone about it, talking to someone about her whole life, but she wanted a neutral person because

“I swear I left this on my coffee table last night. How the hell is he doing this? “If I knew who Nathaniel Braverman was, I’d ask him. The one thing I do know is that he certainly isn’t ecologically conscious about the number of trees he must be killing with all the pieces of paper he’s sending. Good thing we recycle.” “This is the forth one. You threw out the first one at the office. I tossed the one that was dropped off at my front door, then the one I found in my stack I’d taken home to read yesterday and now here it is again. Honestly, Janet, I don’t know what to think about all of this, especially with the weird dreams I’ve been having.” “Dreams?” “Yea, that’s why I’ve not been getting

So gentle, and she was happy he was here now. “It is. For years, I walked like the undead. Sleep-deprived and crazy. Then there was the counseling and though it felt easy to share some of the nightmares, I knew, they thought this was all some childish fear and she told me that there were no monsters in the world, again and again, when I know otherwise. Then it became too difficult, to go to the counseling, to see the pitying look. After that I braved it all. My parents loved me, cared, but they wouldn’t believe the dreams were anything significant. After some years, I made myself believe the same. I lied to myself that whatever I sensed, whatever I dreamed… it was all my over-active imaginat

Malachi stared at Hamilton cooly, at the flippant way that he'd brushed off his confession. Hamilton continued quickly. "Dreams are dangerous, man. They're not real, but they get stuck in your head. Wriggle themselves into your mind and make you think they're real. They make you worried and grow sick over nothing." Malachi heard his words but discounted them. "I have a feeling about this, Hamil. This isn't just nothing. I've had the same dream, over and over, every so often for a few weeks. It can't just be meaningless."

I couldn't sleep, and sometimes, I couldn't even breathe. The worst part was the daydreaming. Every now and then, I fantasized about Ethan getting distracted and me going to have a drink. The desire was so intense that I dreamed about it. I saw myself with a bottle in hand, drinking every last drop, savoring that poison. Suddenly, I would wake up with a dry mouth from desire and covered in shame, realizing where my thoughts had taken me.

Unbelievable. Sighing, he turned and looked over at him. He shrugged. “Okay—you know those fantastic tales of me being able to read minds that were going around a few years ago?” Brody nodded. Dom pinched the bridge of his nose with his latex-covered fingers. “They’re not that far off. I can communicate by thought with some—well, I’ve only ever come across five others...”

"What psychological issue?" "The problem I want to consult about can only be answered and resolved by Miss Sanders.” Leon leaned closer to the desk. "Go ahead." "Recently, I keep dreaming about someone—a woman in a white mermaid dress dancing with me. Whenever I hold her hand, my heart races, and I know I've fallen for her. After dreaming about her more than two or three times, I finally realized something was wrong. During the day, I'm increasingly listless, and whenever I close my eyes, she's all I can think about. This has seriously affected my life and work. Miss Sanders, what kind of illness do you think this is?" Leon raised an eyebrow.

"I know. It's unfair how the brain works. You finally found the perfect man but suddenly your brain said, 'Oh, we almost forgot one teensy little detail: he's not real.'" "Yeah, you're right. That man is probably something my brain conjured to keep me from, I don't know, feeling lonely?" Vida said. She closed her phone and began to eat her lunch. "I just don't understand how someone that is entirely made by imagination can leave so much impression on me." Tessa continued to remain quiet and just listened to her best friend rattle on about her mystery dream guy. But having hyper-realistic dreams can sometimes be a sign of post traumatic stress disorder. She's worried that it might be related