My Imagination

       I have been diagnosed with  O. A. I. D. -- Over Active Imagination Disorder.  Many people get this between the ages of four and ten, but normally grow out of it by the time they turn thirteen. For me, it is a chronic illness. My doctor has tried everything to keep the symptoms down, but none of his attempts have worked, so he gave up. For those of you who are not familiar with this disorder, the symptoms include hallucinations, talking to yourself, gazing off into the distance, and an addiction to books. Some people deal with O. A. I. D. by avoiding the things that cause the symptoms to flare. I don't. The things that usually activate my symptoms are the dark, being home alone, climbing trees, movie sound tracks, reading, acting, and generally anything to do with words.  Now you can see why I will never be cured from this. I can't stop doing any of the above. It's just a part of me. Besides, I like talking to myself. And climbing trees. But I don't like the dark. Oh, well.
       Most people who cannot be cured of O. A. I. D. don't want to be cured. I would fall into that category. Some people wake up one day and realize they've been suffering from this disorder all their life and decide to be rid of it forever. The thing is that they don't know they haven't been suffering from anything, but rather enjoying what fewer and fewer people appreciate. They like it until they find out that the men and women who don't have O. A. I. D. labeled them as "crazy" or "weird". Then there are those of us who find out and don't care.
       Now if you'll excuse me, I have to battle the dragons in my back yard.