My So Called Life

In the 6th and 7th dimensions, all possible versions of my life branch and fold to produce every possible instance of me doing some of what I chose and some of what I rejected as viable choices. When I took my coffee black, the version of me that put cream and sugar in my cup appeared beside me in a nearby possible universe where this choice branched away and continued branching with subsequent branches. If this is true why does my present path seem the only path imaginable? Why does the only version of me - the actual present state of me comprising all my choices and all my contigent guesses about what happens next - seem like the only self that exists to make subsequent choices.

I don't know but here is a guess. The longest surviving version of me exists in a world of maximum duhka or suffering. The 7B mortal souls, of which I am one, collectively flow into my present life stream along a crease in super-symetric 11 dimensional reality that presents everyone about me with maximally poor but exquisitely reasonable choices. The opposite view is that my present self is on a sum of path histories that minimize cosmic suffering. Can this explain your intuition of free will with my conviction that free will is an illusion?