I don't know when it happened, but my imagination is always in 3rd person. I always imagine the protagonist me, but as if I was a puppeteer, controling it. It might be my internal personality, controlling my everything.

If you couldn't tell I've been pretty depressed as of late, but to help I'm thinking of reading the book that kickstarted my extreme imagination again.

It's "The Last of The Really Great Wangdoodles" by Julie Andrews Edwards

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

It was a really long time ago, I remember reading it when I was really young, but it had a lasting impression on me.

But how it is portrayed reminds me of Astral Projection, where meditation and imagination leads to another world of wonder and dreams.

I haven't had much progress with astral projection, and I think it ties into my imagination in 3rd person, whereas Astral Projection is mainly first person.

It might be a childish story, but I can say it was the first book I absolutely loved