My unnatural development of self (“growing up”) was quite an ugly little process and it wasn’t especially smooth or quick. For example, by the time I became a high school senior I was probably equivalent to Stage IV-A[1] of Seth Brundle/Jeff Goldblum’s transformation in The Fly. But, just like Seth Brundle, I eventually figured it out, arrived at my destination and became the confident, capable fly I am now today.

I had a happy childhood and, as a recipient of a happy childhood, I argue that, for those who experience such a state of being, there needs to be some supplementary course materials so we’re not devoured by the world as soon as we authentically encounter it. Of course, no one gives a shit about those of us who had happy childhoods. I can hear a resounding “good for you and your happy childhood” from the cheap seats.

As a thirteen-year-old kid, I struggled mightily as I encountered life events which I could not make sense of or handle healthfully. The commencement of my inexplicable let’s-all-shake-our-heads-and-wring-our-wrists-together epilepsy, and my battle to ensure nobody from school knew about it became my adolescent mission. I was determined to keep the proverbial ship afloat and not allow anyone else to witness this violent derivation  affecting my life plan until I could figure out some alternative routes.

The fact that my epilepsy manifested when I was an adolescent struggling to fit in with my public-school peers after a decade of private parochial school also didn’t help much. I didn’t quite grow up at a time when people officially engaged in witch trials but any kid with half an idea of how it works knows that you don’t want to attract unnecessary attention to yourself if you can help it when you’re still trying to figure shit out.

“Nothing to see here, everyone. It’s cool.”

2 thoughts on “ORIGINS

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