Mind Minus Five

It's compulsive and involuntary. I wonder if it's related to Aphantasia. My theory is I don't have visual memories, so when I see something in the real world, it triggers a memory. It's an excitement of connecting reality to something abstract.

From a 1883 Galton study (before there was a name for Aphantasia).

Galton noticed that highly intellectual individuals—scientists, scholars, professors—tended to have weaker mental imagery than average people or children.

Later studies confirmed this: professors rated their imagery as “vague and dim”, while students rated theirs as “moderately clear.”

The hypothesis:

> The more abstract or logical a person’s thought process, the less it relies on concrete mental images.

If it's the answer to the existential problem, why do I lose it so quickly and why can't I remember it?!

The subreddit is basically just posts saying, "I just found out at age xx." Or "does this sound like Aphantasia?"

"I don't like reading stories because I can't picture them."

"Me too!"

"I can be overly logical."

"Me too!"

For those who have passed away, their faces fade unless I look at a photo. They aren’t gone from my memory—I remember their spirit, their kindness, the moments we shared. But it’s all essence, not imagery.

My memories aren’t filled with sensory detail; they exist as stories, feelings, connections. I remember how someone made me feel, the impact they had on my life, the way they shaped who I am. But if I close my eyes and try to picture them, I see nothing.

At first, realizing what I was missing made me sad. But I’ve come to appreciate the Greek word nous—a deeper way of knowing, beyond just sight. My mind’s eye may be shut, but my nous is working just fine. And maybe, in the end, remembering the essence of someone is more real than their appearance anyway.

I’ve always had a terrible sense of direction. I used to think of it as some kind of sixth sense that most people had. I just assumed I didn't have it. Lately, I’ve started to think my struggles might have something to do with Aphantasia.

I can look at a map, but the moment I look away, the image is gone. It’s not like I can close my eyes and picture the streets, landmarks, or even the general layout of a place. It’s just… blank.

If someone gives me verbal directions—“Go north on 75. Take exit 101. When you get to the first fork, hang a right…”—I’m immediately lost. It’s too much. I can’t picture it, and without that mental image, I have no way to hold onto the information. It doesn’t stick.

A quick search shows that I’m not alone. There’s at least some anecdotal support for a connection between Aphantasia and poor spatial memory. That makes sense to me. If most people can mentally “see” a map or retrace their steps in their mind, no wonder they find navigation easier. If your brain naturally pulls up a visual reference, of course you wouldn’t get lost as easily.

If this connection is real, then it’s one more thing I can stop beating myself up about. My “bad sense of direction” isn’t a personal failing—it’s just how my brain works. And, like with anything else, I can adapt.

I’ve honestly never liked calling myself an artist. I feel (at least in my case) that real artists produce art that comes from within. I can look at a reference and recreate it pretty accurately, but I can’t think of things to create on my own.

It was always a belief I directed only at myself (I know it’s something I need to work on). If someone else created something from a reference, I would never question whether they were a true artist. But for me, I felt like a wannabe artist.

Everyone has been frustrated staring at a blank page or canvas. For me, it’s the only experience I ever had. Learning I have Aphantasia has helped me recognize that the problem isn’t a lack of creativity—I literally can't imagine things in my head. I find a lot of relief in that now.

I’ve also learned a few things to help me create. For example, while I can’t visualize images internally, I have no problem seeing them in external things. So instead of staring at a blank page, I randomly mark it up with scribbles. Once the page is no longer blank, I can see images in the patterns and build from there.

I've also learned to create more abstractly from emotion. I don’t always need to draw something specific. I can let feelings, moods, and thoughts guide my hand.

And all artists use references! I don't know why I ever put that unrealistic idea in my head in the first place.

I’ve never been good at memorization—especially numbers and dates. If you rattled off a five-digit number, I’d lose track before you even finished saying it. And yet, somehow, I’ve always been good at trivia. I never understood why. It was confusing and disheartening.

I've tried using tricks like a memory palace. I first heard of it on The Mentalist. The idea is to create a detailed mental space—like a palace—where you store memories. Apparently, you’re supposed to be able to see every detail, walk around the space, and place information in specific locations. If your mental palace has a painting on the wall, for example, you could associate it with your new boss’s wife, Kathy, who signed it.

It sounds like a great idea. But when I try it, I get nothing. I truly can’t picture anything, so the technique doesn’t work for me.

Some people even use music as a way to reinforce their memory. Jim Morrison, the Lizard King himself, would create melodies in his head to help him remember his lyrics. For me, even music isn’t vivid in my mind. If I try to recall a song, it’s just my own voice imitating it. Even the instruments sound like my own voice making sounds. I don’t actually hear anything in my head unless it's my own voice.

With no mental imagery to store visual memories, I rely heavily on logic, abstractions, stories, emotions, etc. Numbers are still tricky, but I can remember months by associating them with feelings or cultural context. January, for example, isn’t just “the first month.” It’s cold, white, and quiet. It follows Christmas and represents both an ending and a beginning. I associate it with Jack Frost, Baby New Year, Father Time, the Epiphany, and more. Because of these emotional connections, I can remember if someone’s birthday is in January. I might not recall the exact day or year, but I can at least remember the month.

I used to feel frustrated by my struggle to remember the simplest things—especially when it came to things that seemed easy for everyone else, like dates and numbers. But now I understand that my brain just works differently. I’ve learned that not being able to see things in my mind isn’t a weakness—it’s a different kind of strength. I may not have a “memory palace” with dimensions, rooms and paintings, but I have a nous rich with logic, abstractions, emotions and meaningful stories that help me navigate life in my own, unique way.

Since I've learned about Aphantasia, I have started to believe it's related. I think if I could see the numbers in my head, I could hold on to them and even manipulate them in my head. But that's not how my brain works. 

Our brains are unique, and not every skill can be learned. I can’t visualize—my brain simply isn’t wired for it. No amount of effort will change that.