A Life You Know Nothing About

Who is Johnnie?

It's been like this since I can remember; feeling the presence of someone nearby, watching me, even when I was alone. My earliest memory to feeling this presence dates back to when I was only two or three years old. I found myself alone in my bedroom as I heard a voice call out my name from the other room. Thinking it was my mother, I answer back, but she never replied. I remember going to her and asking if she said my name. Maybe not exactly as I would word that question now, but I asked nonetheless. She had told me that the voice I heard was not hers. 

This didn't alarm me, but it definitely stuck with me. Now, looking back at that moment of my life, I remember feeling like I wasn't alone in my bedroom. But it didn't haunt me like the thought of it does now. In fact, I never thought anything of it until I was about five or six years old. 

My next memory is of me being at some sort of store with my parents and brother, who was only a year older than me. I remember as we walked around, I could feel someone watching me, but know that it wasn't a real person. I remember getting into the car to head home later that day and again, it was like someone was right behind me, following my every move. This was the first time I actually felt self conscious about this particular presence. 

Around the same time in my life, I developed my own imaginary friend. For a long time, even as I created this friend, I knew that they weren't real. My brother had come home from school one day and began to brag about his new "girlfriend" from his class. He was only in first or second grade, so of course, to my parents, this was cute. And I was somewhat jealous of their attention to him- he had the spotlight. Instantly, I light up. "I have a boyfriend!" I proclaimed. And I watched as my brother scolded in disbelief. But my parents turned the spotlight on me, as I quickly defended the reality of my "boyfriend."

His name was Johnnie. 

Johnnie had short, dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was my age, maybe a year older, and he wanted to be an airline pilot when he grew up. 

As I went on and on about my new "boyfriend," it was obvious to my parents that he was only imaginary. But nevertheless, he became very real to me. Although he wasn't really my boyfriend, I kept Johnnie around as a good friend. The one person, real or not, who knows all my secrets and in ways, knows me better than I know myself. 

I always knew he wasn't real, but some things happened when I was younger, most I only know from my mother's stories. Things that happened, despite that I only made up Johnnie to take the attention away from my brother. Things I don't remember. Things I can't explain. 

I disappeared a lot as a kid. 

I do remember one time in particular, where I woke up to the sound of my mother frantically searching for me throughout the house. I had fallen asleep in my bed, but I woke up in the small space behind the wall and back of the couch. This was actually somewhat normal of me; to wake up in uncommon places. I would also use to wake up under the dinner table the next morning to my parents looking for me. This is all I remember, but when my mother recalls these events, she says that I claimed it was because of "Johnnie." I would tell her that Johnnie took me on a ride in his airplane that night and somehow ended up asleep in odd places. Of course I don't remember going on airplane rides, because I never did. But for some reason, it was my go-to story for when I woke up in a place that wasn't my bed.

I also remember waving at airplanes as they would pass by over our house as a kid, telling everyone, "that's Johnnie!" But again, I knew Johnnie wasn't real, so why did I put on such a show? I didn't need the attention at this point. 

There was a period in my life where I almost forgot about Johnnie. He faded into the back of my mind for a little while, after moving in with my grandparents. But in middle school, the thought of him resurfaced and he again became part of my life. Only this time, he lived on in day dreams and conversations that we had together when I was alone in my bedroom. I knew that physically, he wasn't real. Yet some days, he seemed more real than my classmates or friends. 

I would day dream a lot as a kid, starting back to when I was five years old. It was something  I didn't discuss with anyone, except my best friend at the time, but even then I never mentioned Johnnie or our life together in my head. There was a point in my life where I didn't know how to fall asleep without day dreaming first. And to make sure you know what I'm referring to, I'll describe my definition of day dreaming.

Day dreaming is the act of imagining scenarios in your head, either with your eyes open or closed, where you may be yourself or someone else entirely. Day dreams can be almost as vivid as real life, making it hard at times to distinguish the two. 

I found that sometimes, I would day dream for hours before falling asleep, growing attached to the people in my own little world. When I started to develop depression in middle school, I found myself making every excuse to stay home and day dream all morning instead of getting out of bed and facing the real world. I lost interest and the genuine joy of being around my friends. Instead, I only wanted to be with Johnnie.

In my day dreams, I developed relationships and friendships with other people, though most of them didn't stick for long as the story line changed. However, Johnnie remained the same person he had always been to me. And through time, I began to think of him as my best friend. We would have conversations in my head for hours, and when I felt the physical presence of someone who wasn't near me, I referred to them as Johnnie to make myself feel less scared.

To this day, I still meet with Johnnie and talk to him and I still day dream about our own little world before bed every night. He is, in many ways, very real to me. It is difficult for me to write about something so close and secretive to me, but I'm tired of keeping a part of my life a secret. Because even if you can't see or experience these moments, I do. And what is real for me doesn't have to be real for you.