“My life is an open comic book…”
Sometimes I feel like such an asshole. For very good reasons.
For no good reason, in the early 21st Century I dated two psychiatrists in a row. I bonded with them over common interests unrelated to their profession, and of course their lustful carnal attraction to my tempting self. Both of them, as you’d naturally expect, were crazy. But from one of them I learned about ADD. He had it, and got me to see that I did, too. (You will have observed from the gendered pronoun why there was no good reason for us to date, my being gay as a picnic basket.)
I light up the charts like Las Vegas for the ADD diagnostic criteria, as a really good psychiatrist, whom I did not date, confirmed.
However, it was clear to me from my acquaintance with Shrinkdate One that most of the attributes of adult ADD, which I have, and which he had, were identical to the attributes of adult assholes. We’re really messy, forgetful, disorganized, sometimes irresponsible. My son, however, tells me that according to a book he’s reading, The War of Art (“It’s about resistance, Mom”) ADD wasn’t defined by doctors, but by Big Pharma in search of a syndrome to medicalize the faults of the most people and sell them the drugs to “treat” it. Yeah, let’s give all the irresponsible assholes speed! Make that the irresponsible-assholes-insecure-enough-to-go-along-with-being-medicalized.
Turns out ADHDers’ brains really ARE different.
I didn’t write the wonderful summing-up I used as the title of this post; Peter Kuper did, as the epigraph of his graphic memoir Stripped, which I recommend if you’d like to learn more than you imagined possible about liberal middle-class boys coming of age in the ’70s-’80s. It’s funny and sour/sweet and the very epitome of overshare. So when I feel like oversharing, I remember about how much I used to do that in my comics, oy gevalt, did I ever, and I remember Peter’s epigraph.
The vet
Amanda is my younger sister, of whom I’m inordinately proud to say “my sister the vet,” and was extremely kind recently to a pup she’s never even met, my beloved Berry. Our vet found that the little guy has a heart murmur, which I feared at first had happened because of my homemade food. Amanda has showered me with sound scientific information on canine heart issues, and I was reassured to learn that dogs with such issues may have many active years left (and that my doggie recipes had nothing to do with it, Chin and other small dogs often develop heart murmurs).
Angela Bocage 