“You have Attention Deficit Disorder,” the doctor concluded
after his series of questions. “A.D.D.” he affirmed. He laughed, “If I had a
nickel…” I wasn’t sure what to think. “Really?” I asked the doctor. I had never
thought that I had problems with my attention span. A-D-D. That spells ADD, I
thought. What could be the connection between addition and the attention span?
I never cared for math. I remember constantly getting in trouble for turning
all my number 3s into Bart Simpson faces in math. The
Simpsons wasn’t really one of my favorite TV shows, but…you know thinking
takes a lot of energy. My head hurts a lot so I don’t like to think. It makes
me tired. I don’t mind other people thinking for me, especially when it comes
to voting. I lost my high school election for Secretary. I think it was because
I was a guy running for the position and not a chick with big boobs. I don’t think
I would ever get breast implants if I were a chick. But, you know, I do enjoy
chicken sandwiches… “Hey!” the doctor yelled at me and I realized I wasn’t eating
a chicken sandwich anymore. I was in the doctor’s office. “You zoned out just
now. Do you need a doctor’s excuse for missing work?” He asked. “What?” I
replied. “I had to work today?”
It’s forgettable- the number of times I was called a “fucking faggot” as a kid. As a former child of god, I wasn’t expected to know what those words meant. I was taught that repentance was vital to achieving everlasting life. My momma made me go to church every Sunday. I said my prayers as I was told. But I eventually learned that Catholicism was never my sanctuary. Christianity was never my safe-haven. God never stopped the cheap shots. He never once prevented the harassment or pure embarrassment that I felt from the words of my “kin in Christ.” Now, picture me- a helpless faggot, blinded by the incandescent lights of an old catholic church. I was home from college spending Spring Break in my former hellscape. So, naturally, my momma yet again made me go to church. This time, on a Wednesday. It was Ash Wednesday. When I was among the folks from home, I felt out of place. So much that I’d imagine camouflaging myself. Like saber-tooth in hiding. But the difference? I had a far mo...
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