When I was young, I had good reasons to not like even my narrow slice of reality. Then I was given the Narnia books and jumped through a portal into an entirely other world filled with magic and wonder. I was hooked.
I continued escaping from my life into fantasy worlds, from Xanth to Prydain to Earthsea. There was a time I could have confidently navigated you through The Land or Middle-earth, yet would have struggled to navigate the limited number of real world routes I experienced on a weekly basis: to the store, to church, to my father’s. I was the kid who would read while walking, while sitting, while riding, while eating. If this were a fantasy story, then I would have begun to fade from our world, slowly erased as the fantasy realms became more real to me than reality. It wasn’t Tom Hanks in Mazes and Monsters bad, but I definitely loved my books.