By Melissa Molina
PROMPT — If only ...
If only time machines existed so I could go back and speak with my younger self. A lot of sci-fi movies warn of the paradoxical catastrophe interacting with yourself can cause while time traveling. That doesn't matter to me because there are so many words of wisdom I wish I could impart. Truthfully, I’m not sure if there is anything my grown-up self could say that would alleviate my past self’s pain. Maybe it will all fall on deaf ears. Regardless, if given the chance, I might say this:
Hi, there. It’s me. Well, I’m you from the future. Unlike everyone else who pretends to understand how you feel, I know because, well, I’m you. Oh, you are so deep in your maladaptive daydreaming. It’s the only coping mechanism you know. When the real world becomes unbearable, it’s all too easy to let your mind take you into a more magical world. Ones with brave warriors, fantastical creatures, and kind people with unbreakable bonds of friendship. I get it. Making friends in real life is hard. Connecting with people is hard. Being human is hard.
I wish I could say something to make you avoid the tumultuous times ahead. Yet, I know that you need to go through them. There will be so much pain, but you will rise from it. You’ll emerge the healthiest, most confident version of yourself yet. It seems unattainable now, but you’ll get there. I know that you don’t believe me, so I’ll just have to let you go through it. I’m sorry that there’s not much else I can say to ease this burden for you.
I know. Truly, I do. These wounds are invisible. It’s hard to explain them to others, especially when everyone seems to expect you to be this perfect person with no problems. Inside, there’s so much turmoil. Your maladaptive daydreaming gives you a false sense of reality. You think that, maybe, when you finally go on this life-changing adventure, things will get better. You want to believe that behind every door you will find the solution to all your problems. That’s not how life works. You don’t get it now, but you will.
You have hope. That’s good. Don’t lose it. You’re going to get hurt repeatedly. Learn from it. Right now, more than anything, you wish that you were someone else. This comes from feeling like something is fundamentally wrong with you. Know that absolutely nothing is wrong with you. Your brain is simply wired differently, and that’s okay. You often feel out of place, like you never belong. It’s going to be a running theme in your life. I wish I could say that it will go away. It doesn’t. When you find out about your neurodivergence, this sense of displacement will bring you neither joy nor sorrow. You will simply accept it.
Well, I have to go now. Best of luck to you.
If only…
Melissa Molina lives in Chicago with her husband and two cats. Her work has been featured in Cathartic Youth Literary Magazine and Turtle Way Journal. She recently completed her master’s degree in English and Creative Writing and is currently working on a children’s book. In her free time, she enjoys learning about psychology and mental health, finding ways to incorporate both into her writing.