Is This Normal

Children are often known for having active imaginations. With that said, as I’ve evolved more into a grown human, my brain has maintained that cherished, childhood ability. When I was young, my sister would leave it up to me to decide on how the games we came up with would play out. I gave her options for the time period, location, genre, that sort of thing. I found it easier than she did to make stories up and to plan the layout of how we would build our imaginary world for the day. It never dawned on me how oddly active my imagination was until recently. 
I was always able to see the world we made, more than just in my head. Picture any futuristic movie that includes holograms. I could see what was in my mind, in front of me in a slightly transparent form. Were I to picture a forest, the trees would be visible to me but I could see through them, they would have the right colors and details of a tree but the living room couch would be seen right behind. 
    Whilst I was in high school and my brain was slowly deteriorating from being academically challenged in half my classes, I would let my mind wander. Oftentimes picturing some natural disaster that would allow school to end and me to somehow save all of my classmates from our impending deaths. I could picture a mammoth wave rushing through the hallway and spilling into my biology classroom. I could see the water lapping at our feet, inching up to our desktops. I had to remind myself at times not to react because I was, after all, making it up. 
I planned out numerous apocalypse scenarios and would imagine them happening in multiple locations, during different situations so I would have the best idea on how to conquer the end times at any given moment. These thoughts usually remained in my head but that was another thing I could do, immerse myself so completely into my mind rather than project my thoughts into the physical world. It was much like watching a movie, everything I created mentally was clear as day. Because I’ve seen a great many films, I knew to avoid ending up in that classic scene when the protagonist is daydreaming, the image blurs, and it cuts back to the teacher repeating the name of the main character whilst the rest of the class laughs. I refused to let that happen so I kept one eye on the visions in my head, and one on the happenings of the room around me. 
Sometimes when I was home alone at night, I would picture characters that I made up to keep me company. I could hear their voices and visualize them moving around my room, washing the dishes, folding laundry. It was disappointing to find that none of those chores had actually been done as I had left them to naught but my own mental creations. My only struggle was figuring out where to look to make eye contact because I can’t picture people’s heights well in accordance with where I stand when they aren’t there. I’m short so I’m usually looking up, but I wanted to be accurate. If I’m going to imagine someone I made up, I want to imagine them with the correct height I gave them before deciding to see them in front of me. 
A friend of mine once said that I had superpowers when she asked me to randomly visualize things in the living room and found that I could see them so well. She wondered if she wanted me to see a tree in front of us, I actually could. I did. She then wondered about making a random Wild Thing-like creature pop up and I did that as well. She asked me where I saw him. I had pictured him sitting on the couch with us, right inbetween. I told her as such. She wanted to know what he looked like. I can’t remember what inspired me to build him the way I did but he was probably six or so feet tall, it was difficult to tell given he was sitting down. His body was covered in black fur and he sat like a person, but awkwardly. He was hunched slightly, his large eyes facing forward. He had two long teeth that protruded from his lower lip, think sabertooth cat but the location of the fangs is flipped. I never saw his hands, or paws if that’s what they were as they just blended in with the rest of him. His arms were strangely short, barely reaching to rest on his goat-like legs. He was a large black mound of fur with an odd face sitting between us on the couch. It was easier to see him opaquely as he was all black so the rest of the room didn’t show through him as much as it did the tree. The tree that was still standing in the living room. Beastie wasn’t looking at that though, it was off to the side of him. He was just staring at the blank television screen in front of us.
The reminders to tell myself not to react to my imagination was constant even outside the classroom. My brain is something I disappear into most of the day to keep me away from the mundane things in life. Walking down the street is far more exciting if you imagine yourself whipping out a sword and cutting down demons. Grocery shopping is more thrilling if you change the color of the sky outside to red and pretend the moon exploded, the world is now in chaos, and you need to stock up on ice cream and cereal. Biking home from work at ten at night opens the door to all sorts of fun made up scenarios. A hoard of zombies lumbering through the streets and sidewalks around you, shifty government agents chasing behind you but somehow can’t keep up with your pedaling, a fella in a van attempting to kidnap you. I have many things to keep me motivated to get home as soon as possible. 
There is one problematic problem I have faced that I found out when I unlocked a new level of human growth. That was driving. When I get stressed out I retreat into my head. When I’m in my head, I can’t see what’s directly in front of me outside my head. Unless I’m visually projecting thoughts to be more physical, I can render myself blind to everything around me. Doing this and driving a car is not good. Damn near ran into someone at a stop light because I legitimately failed to see what was right in front of me. I was too busy picturing myself as a werewolf running through the forest that lined the road I was on. I didn’t like driving out of fear of my own inability to escape my brain whenever I do something scary. I live alone now, without my mum’s car to crash and have only a bicycle to transport me. With that, at least, I can keep one eye one the road solely because of how much more vulnerable I am. I plan to improve my driving in the future, but that remains to be a faraway bridge that won’t be crossed for a while. 
The things I create mentally paired with music is when I am at my most powerful. It is one of the few times I feel genuine bliss. Even if what I imagine is melancholy, angry, uplifting, it’s all the same. Being a fan of movie scores and epic instrumental music has been incredibly useful. Depending on the music I listen to, the images in my mind run rampant. Worlds build rapidly around me to match the tone of the song and shift just as quickly when the next one comes on. Sometimes I try to make a cohesive story from song to song, other times I just let my mind wander. I have to be careful with anything glum sounding depending on what I’m doing though. It's quite awkward to show up for work on the verge of tears because I was an idiot and listened to the playlist filled with all my miserable-emotion-inducing songs. 
Nevertheless, if ever you see me strolling down the street with headphones or earbuds, that is when I will be walking with the most purpose. No matter the kind of song that plays, I walk as my purest confident self because I’m not on earth in those moments. I’m nowhere close.

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