Published on 12, July, 2020
I first identified this when I had a counsellor trying to teach me relaxation methods to help with anxiety. It wasn't just that I couldn't imagine the peaceful scenes that she suggested; I really couldn't understand what it was that she was asking me to do. I had always assumed that when people spoke of their "mind's eye", that it was just a metaphorical figure of speech.
I think it affects me most with my memory. My biographical memory is very factual. I feel almost as if I could have just read about me doing things, as I would a fictional character. Recalling events doesn't bring to mind images, and very little in the way of feelings. I always find it very hard to remember which other people were around me at the time, because I can't picture seeing the other people in the scene - which has led to quite a few embarrassing social slip-ups.
Oddly though, it doesn't seem to impair me when it comes to finding my way around places or working with geometry and technical drawings. In fact, I am generally very good at navigating spaces, even if I only visited them once before a long time ago - I was known for being one of the best navigators back in my caving days. I've worked briefly in CAD (Computer Aided Design) too, and had no problems with mentally rotating shapes or imagining how the tools would sculpt out a particular shape. Somewhere or other, there must be some kind of visual memories in my mind that I'm using, but I'm at a loss to explain where they are or how I use them.
I remember doing a guided imagery class over a decade ago. We had to imagine the beach as a CD/ tape played ,and relax our muscles . I could hear the sounds coming from the CD/tape but I couldn't imagine in my own mind. I just lay there with my eyes closed until the session ended. We then had to report how we felt ; how the session had made a difference. It did nothing for me and when asked for a figure out of 10 I just plucked one out of the air.
That sounds very much like my experience of it too. I never could prevent little details in the soundtrack or counsellors voice from setting off tangential thoughts and little internal dialogues, which I suppose is what focusing on the imagery is meant to prevent.
Ironically, the closest I think I ever get to the intended "calm, thought free" state is during the fatigue following a melt-down. Obviously, I wouldn't wish melt-downs upon myself, but the feeling afterwards can be very blissful and serene.