My beloved has this thing. It has a name.
Great start to a post Anna, very strong. Why don’t we look that up before we start the blog post next time?
Aphantasia! It’s called Aphantasia. Which, to be honest, I’m pretty sure is a Disney cartoon, so no wonder I couldn’t remember the name of it, but whatever.

It means you can’t see pictures in your head. Like, it’s partly not being able to picture people you know and love, which sucks. But when someone describes a picture. Or when you read a description of a scene in a novel — he just doesn’t have the ability to build that image in his head in a way that he can “see”. It’s not a visual thing.

And for a long time I couldn’t quite work out what he meant by that, and then when we discovered it was not completely unusual, I read up about it, and sort of understood it more. But what still completely confuddled me was the fact that he simply couldn’t wrap his head around what it must be like to see pictures in one’s head. Basically: He couldn’t even picture me being able to picture the things I pictured in my head when I picture things. Which makes sense, in that he couldn’t picture things but… I couldn’t step into his shoes and understand his confusion.

Until the moment he revealed that he somehow DOESN’T ever think about being attacked by a squirrel while on the toilet.

And I stopped, aghast, and tried to work out how it might be possible to not think about being attacked by a squirrel while on the toilet. Or a rat. Or a shark.

This has led me to go on a journey of self-interrogation. Like… what OTHER thoughts may not be constantly present for everyone else? What other things does my anxiety-free beloved NEVER think about?!

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Hello yes I’d like to report an infraction of the ex-pat code.

Ok, thank you, yes. It was this evening, around 7pm, at the corner store a couple of blocks from my house? You know, the one run by the  brothers? The older one was was working tonight, he can provide a back-up account if you need one.

Anyway. I was picking up a couple of things — bottle of diet coke, some butter… not important. Though you should know that if you’re hankering after Dairy Milk Fruit & Nut, they have the big bars there. No idea why, no other British things, but those, for some reason? They have them! I know, right?!

Sorry yes. I called you, yes.
The report.

Oh yes it was extremely distressing. Apparently she was from … is this line secure?…ok.

…the Home Counties.

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