I am exactly like that. When I'm doing things like talking to my parents or even cleaning my rat cage, a huge part of my mind is off in my own world, and I can still focus on what my characters are doing. For instance, as I'm typing this I can feel the daydreaming part of my mind "calling" me, if that makes any sense. When I'm forced to come out of the world, such as when I'm talking to my psychiatrist, I'm hit with an overwhelming feeling of depression. I'd even go so far as to say I'm heartbroken when I'm forced to come back to this world, since I feel trapped in this body and mind and would love to be someone better. When I'm talking to my doctor I talk in a dull, monotonous voice because I'm so depressed that I have to be myself. I also stare at the ground wishing so badly I wasn't there. I told her and my former therapist about the daydreaming, but they acted like it's no big deal. My doctor tells me to "face my fear" by simply going to Walmart and forcing myself to interact with people.

You just can't do that with Selective Mutism. I'm supposed to be eased into it slowly, but she acts like I should just throw myself into a crowd of people and deal with it. That only results in SM freezing me completely and my body goes into lockdown mode where I can't speak or move and my heart's beating so fast it feels like it's about to explode. I feel helpless and exposed during those moments. It's cruel of her to put me through such terror. I already had to go through that every day of school, I don't want to go through it in my adulthood as well.

She isn't willing to help me and I just don't know what to do about it because every psychiatrist I've been to has acted the same. The truth is they know nothing about SM and don't want to admit it.

Sorry for the rant, but I just went to my doctor a few days ago and she behaved as she normally does, so I'm quite angry.

I've always described my feelings like this:

My body is like a prison and my eyes are like windows. I'm trapped inside looking out through those windows, wanting so badly to escape. The girl everybody sees when I'm in public is not me, she's Selective Mutism. I'm inside this prison struggling to get out so people can see my personality, but all they can see is the depressed, shy, socially awkward, expressionless shell that SM turns me into.

I once had a therapist who asked me why I talk about SM like it's a person. Nobody could possibly understand unless they have it, but it's like it is an entity with it's own personality, and it hijacks mine whenever it chooses.