Reality vs. Fantasy

There are two schools of thought that we as humans have to encounter, and reconcile, if we are to live in true harmony and serenity:  What it is and what we would want it to be.  Basically, it's fantasy vs. reality.  Even more basic, it's what life is like vs. what we want life to be.  These schools of thought have been with us from birth and will stay with us until death.  In a perfect world, both schools aren't far from each other.  In fact, they are across the street from each other, sharing the road equally, having great social events, and always making it a point to stay in a good, stable, working and loving relationship.  However, the world is not a perfect one.  Fantasy and reality don't live very in a very well-connected and stable relationship.  All too often, the line between fantasy and reality gets skewed.  That's the reality of it, to pardon the pun:  fantasy and reality aren't just schools of thought.  They are actual ideas and commodities that can be measured, in a way.  Reality and fantasy are separated by a line...a rather thin line.  And as that line skews, one side dips onto the other and vice-versa.


In my 30+ years on this planet, I have had my fair share of encountering reality and fantasy.  I have also had the line skew for me in a number of ways.  How did I handle all of it?  Well, in order to fully understand it, I have to go back to the beginning....


Both of my parents are still alive, still married, still in my life.  I have brothers and sisters, one of each are older than me, and two of each are younger than me.  That makes lucky 7 with the kids and a total of 9 in my immediate family.  When it came to general parenting, Mom and Dad did the best they could and all they could remember when it came to raising us.  Since there was many of us, the older ones did the policing while the younger ones stayed in line.  Being 3rd of 7, I was smack dab in the middle, getting policed while policing.  It seemed like a pecking order, really.  As for Mom and Dad, their main methods of parenting included a lot of yelling, some early violence as a form of discipline, and no nurturing whatsoever.  Yup, no nurturing.


We didn't get a kind word or two when we messed up.  We got scolded, intimidated, and even beaten early on if we did, though.  The beatings stopped, thank goodness, but they did unlock some deep-seeded issues along the way for yours truly.  For starters, I developed a strong level of fear and intimidation towards my parents.  Even if they didn't hit me, it was instilled in me that doing wrong, messing up, etc, was something I had to avoid.  Over time, their physical abuse turned to emotional abuse as they expressed various forms of doubt, disappointment, and a means to lower my self-esteem, all in order for me to do what they would want me to do and be who they would want me to be: the good son.


Also, I developed a bit of a violent streak.  Yes, I developed the need to hit people if they pushed me to it, or even if they played around.  It didn't matter if it were my brothers or whatever.  I felt I had to, in some way, get some get back for the abuse.  In fact, the get-back became intimidation of my own as I thought I could intimidate my younger siblings.  I learned quick that it was a fruitless effort and a harsh thing to do (I still think back to when I gave my sister a "DDT" on the carpet, and when I fought her for the remote; young and mean was I).  All this because it was instilled in the family, passed down from parents to first children and onward.  When I could not utilize my violence, I did maintain a level of resentment....and boy, did it poison my relationships with my siblings, among other people.


Lastly, due to my low self-esteem, I developed two major defects in character: narcissism and perfectionism.  Now, being a narcissist doesn't just mean you think you are better than most people and your outward arrogance shows it.  No, it also means that you keep to yourself and maintain a means of silent resentment towards those who you may feel attack your ego.  As fragile as it is, the ego does not want to die, get attacked, etc.  So, it will make you do or say things that come off very negative (this is something that really came into fruition during my college years, primarily through bad experiences with women and making/having friends).  Perfectionism was all about making sure it was done right, with no faults or failings.  If anything, and I mean anything went wrong, I did a great job of beating myself up emotionally and spiritually.  It had to be perfect, because, failure was not an option, at home, in school, or any form of life. My parents made it a point all the time to brag about how great their children were to friends and other family.  If there was anything wrong, and I mean anything, they would over-worry, over-think, overreact, and pretty much leave all the nurturing in the trash.  There was no "You'll do better next time, now how about I make you a chocolate milk to make you feel better?"  It was always "What happened?  Oh no.  You have to do better next time.  Maybe you should take this out.   Don't have fun when you should study more instead."




So, with all these pressures, issues, and the like in my living situation, how, oh how, did I handle it?  Easy.  I retreated.  I ran.  I isolated.  I said, "Forget the real world.  I'll stay in the fantasy world."  At least there, I won't be judged, criticized, ridiculed, scolded, hated, or whatever.  So, my hobbies became my only outlet to happiness in life.  It used to just be something to do to improve my spirit and self-esteem.  However, once I took it upon myself to try and show others for approval or even admiration, getting shot down happened more than most (I once stopped drawing for a good amount of time when someone criticized my drawing style, and also when my mom thought it was a waste of time when I could be studying).  Soon enough, my favorite spirit-lifting hobbies that I wanted to do or have been doing were put on the back-burner for time-consuming hobbies that became more and more obsessive the more and more I dove into it.  I had to, as I thought, since the real world just wasn't doing it for me.  So, onto video games, wrestling, comic books, and the like.



Now, comic books used to be much more obsessive for yours truly, as the fantasy world of the hero saving the day was perfect for me.  I wished I could be the hero, or at least imagine myself being him.  I would be important.  I would matter.  I would get the girl, save the day, receive the adulation, and be important.  Spider-Man was my all-time favorite because, like me, he didn't always win.  But, he won when it counted and still kept going, despite all the negatives.  He even got the girl, was incredibly smart, and was very funny.  How ideal was that?  Popeye was another fave of mine for the sheer fact that if a bully pushed him around, he'd eat his spinach and wipe the floor with them.  Who wouldn't want to do that, right?  Then, other stars like X-Men, Batman, The Avengers, and others came into my view.  Once I could afford it, I bought comics all the time, losing myself in the story and fantasizing how cool it would be if the comic book characters of my interest did the awesome things I would have loved to see them do.  If it meant escaping reality and its doldrums, I was all for it.   As time passed, I met many people who shared my passion, and had a much stronger passion for it than I.  When I would talk comics, they would tell me how they knew more by explaining current stories for those characters and express their opinions about them as well.  The more I got into it, the more I saw how people of this variety were.  It didn't seem so bad since they looked happy with how their lives were.  So, I adopted their patterns, and even passed it on to others or tried to.  It was my escape, and I enjoyed it, and I didn't care who didn't....


Video games.  Ah.  This became my best friend when there just wasn't anyone else to rely on.  I already wrote about how I just finally retired from gaming.  Well, as I said, it was my avenue to isolation.  Once I had a game I could really get into, I delved and dove into it headfirst.  Next thing you know, I immersed myself into the story and the fantasy that it was all I could think about.  And the more I thought about a game, the more I wanted to see if there were others like it.  Heck, if someone had a game suggestion, I had to get it, to keep up with the times, if you will.  Everyone talked about how great Persona was as a series.  So, why not join in?  There were times where I had to wear a video game shirt or two just as a means to identify who I was.  There's nothing really wrong with that.  However, when you start using games as a means to positively affirm your quality as well as a key to isolation...things can be pretty unmanageable.  For starters, my defects of character started to become tantamount to my gaming.  So, anger, resentment and fear, they became the second, third, and fourth player, even when it was a one-player game.  I felt those when I lost...all the time.  On the fantasy level, impersonating Snake, talking about a cartoon block on RPGs, or even wanting to be as much a slacker as Travis Touchdown (or as big a hero as Mario) was what I wanted or was doing.  It was my world.  I chose to live like that.


Then we have pro wrestling.  I have been a wrestling fan for so long.  I just recently quit watching it.  It's been 5 months and I really don't miss it to the point of trying to go back.  That really says something.  Every time I do, I just think back to how I used to act as a wrestling fan.  I was a super duper fan.  The inner child and young teenager in me came out.  And whenever I didn't get what I wanted, I pouted, complained, raised a stink, and whatnot like an immature brat.  I wanted to have my cake and eat it, too.  Little did I know that it wasn't really a good way to enjoy this as a pastime.  I wasn't accepting anything they threw at me, good or bad.  It started to affect my life on a negative level, so I quit.  But, I still remember how I was from when I was a boy up until the day I quit.  Wrestling was my avenue to be a kid again and let my imagination run wild.  I always thought I was the wrestler when I heard his or her theme song.  I wanted to be that cool.  But, that wasn't reality.



When it comes to other things of a fantastic means, I didn't hesitate to let my imagination run with it.  If there was a movie I liked, I repeated the lines all the time, came up with my own words for the scenario or scene, and even fantasized what it would be like if that would ever happen to me.  The same goes for television and the stuff I mentioned earlier.  And if the day was just not doing it for me, I'd dive right into the tube and watch, watch, watch.  One bad day became a bad week.....and then a bad month....and, next thing you know, I had to watch movies just to live my life.  Music was another great escape.  The headphones were on and if it wasn't loud enough, I turned up the volume.  I studied the lyrics.  I emulated the bands.  I even fantasized who would be playing with me if we ever covered these songs.  Anything to escape the day-to-day.  Anything to create isolation.



So, where does that leave me?  After 32 years on this planet, a lot has changed and over a short period of time.  It is all for the best and for true growth.  There's one word that I have learned that has been the driving force for my growth presently: acceptance.  When reality faces off against fantasy, acceptance is the referee.  When there's too much reality or too much fantasy, acceptance is the midpoint, the balance beam, the mediator.  That's one of the keys to live life on life's terms: balance.  Without balance, we go to our extremes and lose ourselves to defects, negativity, and ultimately, sanity.  I've seen what extremes can do to people, be it good or bad.  It's not a pretty sight.  The world isn't black or white, it's colorful, and it's not just the primary colors or the rainbow.  The world, along with life, are all the colors that exist in our world.  When reality and fantasy are in the mix, for me, I have to practice acceptance.  I choose to accept that wrestling isn't for me anymore. Video games are worth retiring from and becoming casual about.  Comic books are great to read, but not to the point of obsession.  Movies are great to watch, but not to emulate or obsess over, the same as television.  Music is great to listen to, but they don't have to be the telling point about how I feel, especially when they are just reflecting how the artist feels.  The world isn't in a bubble and I am not either.  I'm in the world in my life.  Running and hiding keeps me from growing.  Coming out and living lets me grow and change for the better.


Reality isn't all bad.  Neither is fantasy.  Too much of one or the other can be, though.   I have seen people so steeped in reality that they become cynical, sarcastic, and cold.  They aren't fun to be around, in any instance. On the other side of the coin, I've seen people steeped so deep in fantasy that it's the only way they can live their lives.  If you get in the way of their fantasy, all kinds of problems can ensue.  Don't believe me?  There's a dark side to the conventions for comic books and video games, you know.  Even darker still, is how the fantasy fiend lives his or her life.  I knew a guy who took it upon himself to stalk any and every girl he met and why?  Because they shared any one of his interests or just interested him.  It is very disturbing.



Acceptance is the answer to the battle of the real vs. the fantastic.  If I ever get too steeped in the real, I remember to have a little fun whenever I can to uplift my spirit.  If I ever get too steeped in fantasy, I remind myself that I need to be present in whatever it is I am doing and try to find the positive and fun in what it is that I am thinking about.  Boundaries are important in my life now and in my development.  It's going to be a long road, but I'm glad I'm on it.  Now, whenever I wake up, I can look at life with a smile, knowing it's not so bad because of the fantasy things I can enjoy and the reality of that I can enjoy them in moderation.  I can accept that.