I remember a number of times in my past, telling people that we dream in words, not pictures, that the question, "Do you dream in colour?", was nonsensical. "We dream in words, colour is mentioned when necessary.", I'd insist. Nobody ever protested, which is a subject for another splurge at some time, the fact that so many fail to speak up when they ought to, when faced with something they do not believe in. I do not remember the looks on their faces (I wouldn't), puzzlement, incredulity, disdain perhaps. I was wrong in my language anyway, thinking it over, going over my recollection of dreams - I should have said "we dream in ideas".
We do dream in ideas... or maybe that's just me. If I dream of a man running, the idea of a man running is there (almost like just the words), what surface he's running on, what are his surroundings, what colour is his shirt - these things are not there, unless they need to be, unless they are key to the dream. There is no picture, just a collection of required ideas (words?). The way my memory of real life events operates is the same.
I wonder if anyone reading (hopefully someone is) has noticed that my mind operates differently to theirs (or, indeed, the same!). It would be interesting to compare/contrast.
Then, a few months ago, I chanced on an article on an internet science site that changed my thinking dramatically. It seems I was wrong, or at least, I was speaking only for myself. Damn those people for not having the courage to contradict me, seems that most people DO dream in pictures, colour! And they visualise things too, pictures! In colour! The condition of not having this visual talent had been only fairly recently identified and studied and been given a name: A (meaning not, or none) + phantasia (internally summoning up images).
So, visualising is really real <pause for thought, a long pause>. This took me aback fairly majorly, I've always felt a bit different, but here was a concrete diagnosis. I was an Aphantasiac, well, that felt good, briefly at least. Some might respond here, "poor sod, doesn't know what he's missing", they are welcome to that. But, like the blind man who doesn't desire sight - it would detract from his other mechanisms - I miss, or desire, nothing. After a while, I didn't feel good or bad about it, nothing, it was just me. I don't want to belong to a club. A diagnosis is just a diagnosis if it brings nothing, it just gives a thing a name, essentially changing nothing. For that reason, I need no professional "diagnosis", it would change nothing, I am "happy as I am".
After a fashion then, I am blind. Well, I still think I see a great deal more than many people manage to of the world, so no problem. I don't need a doctor to provide an opinion. I map my world in words, it works well, I have a phononenal memory for who said what, when. If I don't know you well, I may not recognise you the next time we meet. Unless I have taken special note, I won't recall the colour of your eyes, or car, or hair, but I will remember what you said...
Such a funny thing though, what goes on behind closed doors, surely most of us imagine that others are the same in their mental faculties, maybe most are. Ultimately, we have no access whatsoever to knowledge of another's inner proceedings. Makes me wonder now, how different perhaps we all are. We categorise ourselves, but there's no way of know whether the pigeon hole for my particular disorder or neurosis really resembles yours at all. It's odd that I'd managed to talk over dreams and imaginings with people for decades without either of us cottoning on to our differences.
I've since talked to my wife and to thoughtful friends, who do indeed have a visual "mind's eye" (yes, it's so much less of a metaphor than I'd always believed), they're surprised and puzzled by me, but maybe not astonished, I think they always considered me a little bit different.
