Thanks for sharing this. I didn't mention this above to avoid going on a tangent, but after starting a mindfulness meditation habit earlier this year, I've noticed what I can only describe as more awareness of the void in my visual field, and some morphing and indistinct visual phenomena like a shimmering nothingness. Not what I would call imagery, but something I had not been aware of before.

I've long suspected that the condition might be trauma related, a suspicion my therapist shares, and the clarity that mindfulness has brought for me has led to some serious breakthroughs in processing past events. Only time will tell if this will unlock something more visual.

Without going into my life's story, it makes a lot of sense to me that aphantasia could be some kind of protective mechanism of the brain to shield someone from events too big to process.

Interesting. As an aphantasiac myself, I find it surprising that this person has such a negative perspective, wanting to "cure" his aphantasia.

As far as I know, aphantasia has never had any meaningful negative impact on my life. We just think without mental images, but we can solve the same kind of problems as the rest. That's why most of us don't even find out that we are different until we read about it somewhere on the Internet (in my case, in my 30s). How can something that has so little real-life impact that neither we nor our close persons can even notice be seen as a disorder to be cured?

I can understand being curious about how mental imagery is like. I'm curious, as well. But I think I'd still rather not start a "treatment" as it seems that I'm good at thinking without mental imagery (perhaps it has even made me better at symbolic and linguistic processing, as I seem to be better at that than most), and "if it ain't broke, don't fix it". Not sure that something that seems to quite fundamentally alter my way of thinking (to use a mental imagery that I would never be good at, I suppose) is a good idea. To each their own, of course.

I do think the “cure” framing is a bit odd, but then started thinking back to my own initial discovery.

When I first learned this is a thing and realized that I have it, I initially started feeling like I’d been deprived of something. That this mode of experience was so absent in me that I couldn’t even imagine what other people actually meant when they talked about visualization, and this bothered me.

But over time my perspective shifted, and I stopped seeing it as a disability of some kind and instead as a different flavor of experiencing the world. To your point, I have linguistic strengths that are far more attuned than the strong visualizers I know. They come to me when they need something written. I go to them when I need advice about arranging my living room.