There’s a few things that have happened lately that have really been eye openers to me, and great fodder for friends. Nothing ground breaking and I sort of lead the way when it comes to self-depreciation. I have, however, learned a thing or two about myself. I saw, first hand, my brain working and failing miserably at some things that would seem quite elementary to someone like me, hell, to anyone.
A couple weeks before I went to California I bought myself a new electric razor. I packed it in my suitcase and when I got to Los Angeles, after opening my bag, I found that the blades had all fallen off the razor. We’re talking about the round heads that go against your face when you shave. I found all the pieces and laid them out in front of me. What happened next can only be described as sensory overload. There were six pieces that needed to be put together to make three pieces. Then they needed to be put onto the shaver and all would supposedly be well. Seeing the pieces on the bed as I unpacked the suitcase, I became almost afraid. I’m not sure if that’s the right word. I somehow couldn’t wrap my brain around the concept of what had to be done.
It seemed like there had to be at least 10,000 things to do in order to make things the way they should be. I’m staring at these six pieces and I was overcome with this sense of both worry and disappointment. The worry, simply of what I was going to do. The disappointment? Well, from the realization of what was happening in my head. I made a few feeble attempts at putting it together and, of course, I just couldn’t seem to put the process needed into any kind of action that made sense. I felt like such an idiot. Fortunately, my ex wife came home and sat at the dining room table and put the shaver back together in a matter of minutes.
Of course I spoke to Shrink about it and she, once again, brought up how this was yet another instance of me displaying the classic symptoms of A.D.D. I just like to think of it as me being an idiot.
The razor is just one of many instances of things like this throughout my life. It’s more noticeable as a problem now because I’m by myself. I’ve always had others help me take care of things. As a child, my Mother or my Brothers and Sister would always be the leaders in putting bikes, toys and other things together that would have more than two or three pieces. After I got married, Shelly was always taking care of stuff like that. Even now, after my divorce, friends are usually around enabling me to hide this rather embarrassing problem. It’s even more embarrassing now because I’ve brought it into the forefront. I use it as a joke when I’m with friends because, let’s face it, it’s funny to think that I’ve still got pieces of a fan that’s been on my couch for over three weeks because it confuses me when I look at it.
The whole concept has always bothered me. I could never figure out why I could never put a jigsaw puzzle together for instance. I’d look at the pieces and no matter what color or shape the pieces were; they’d always look the same to me and literally blend into one another. No matter how hard I’d try, I just couldn’t, and still can’t, get it to make sense in my head. It was always so hard to explain to not only others, but myself as well. How could this guy, who everyone believes is a rather bright guy, be such an idiot when it comes to these simple things that shouldn’t be an issue for the simplest of people?
It’s really something to think I’ve gotten this far in life being so dependent on others to help me with literally anything I’ve needed to do. I’ve always had either family or friends help me through every step of doing anything I’ve ever had to do. It’s like having someone hold your hand when crossing the street. There’s something to be said for holding someone’s hand, don’t you think?
