I am constantly questioning whether my perceptions and sensations are real or simply projections of my imagination. I suffer from a rare condition where the distinction between my waking and sleeping life is not black and white; I generally describe it as two almost indistinguishable shades of grey. I have full control and memory of my dreams, but lack the understanding of knowing when I'm dreaming. Recently I have realized that when I’m dreaming, I’m much less afraid to show my individual self, compared to when I’m experiencing ‘reality’. I believe this is because I’m not afraid to express myself the way I like when I can be sure that I won't be able to be judged by other people. A thought-provoking question arises from my illness – can something that is imagined be "real?" Most people believe that my illusions aren't real, and carry no substance of real life. To these people, I ask them whether they have a faith or religion that they believe in, and if they do, they are quite adamant that they're belief is real. They could believe that God could be anything; God could be a handful of soil, or a substance made of moonlight and hope, and if the person who held this belief accepts this as fact, then to that person it would be as real as the sun in the sky. This is what amazes me about the power of imagination. The mind has the power to choose what it sees, not the eyes. I used to be afraid of my illness - not knowing when I’m awake or asleep and what is reality. But lately I have changed my mind on how I view my difference, as my imagination allows me to freely be who I want to be; myself, “unto thine own self be true”, without having to panic about whether the people around me will accept who I am. I find it hard to be myself in the ‘real world’. I want to be accepted like nearly all other people. I’m terrified at even the thought of rejection. This fear has eventually led to me finding myself bowing down to