we are infinite.

The pictures have no relevance to my blog post but they serve as a reminder that POPTART IS COMING, ONCE AGAIN!

I recently had a discussion about ADD, otherwise affectionately known as Attention Deficit Disorder with a friend. This friend accused me of being a victim of said disorder. Which got me thinking..

It is true that I have a remarkably bad memory. It’s tragic, really. To the extent that I can never remember deadlines or things I’ve been tasked to do and this reflects greatly in both my career and school. Brenda, my personal assistant, has to constantly remind me to reply emails and to go to meetings. I also get easily distracted by shiny objects and glitter.

All my life, I have adamantly credited my lack of memory to a sad, albeit morbidly funny incident that happened back when I was about 5 years old. I recall sitting in my grandma’s room with my cousins, watching the telly. My grandma had a bunk bed, and I was sitting on the lower bunk with my cousin, while my sister sat on the top bunk. I remember being completely transfixed by the cartoons on the telly, fascinated to the point that I didn’t hear my sister announce that she was gonna jump off the top bunk and to get out of her way. Nooooo. My little adolescent mind couldn’t handle multitasking at that time.

Sooooo, my sister, being the complete buffoon that she was, leaped off the top bunk and landed on me, pushing both of us to the ground and crashing my head against the tile. I laid there, stunned and in shock as how kids usually react to blind force trauma (picture this: a screaming kid runs around at top speed, smacks into a wall and is stunned into silence for a few seconds before bursting into tears). Yes, that was me. I laid there with my head spinning, in a confused daze.

I recalled my dad and mom running over, picking me up, cuddling me while screaming at my sister (ha-ha). My dad then proceeded to kick a chair out of anger and broke his toe in the process. It sounds funny now but trust me, there is NOTHING FUNNY about getting your skull smashed on cold hard tile.

Soooo. I’ve spent a good 18 years of my life blaming my sister and her thorough idiocy for my lack of memory thanks to brain damage. But with my friend’s proclamation of my possible ADD syndrome, I can no longer crucify my stupid sister.

I do remember falling down and banging my head around A LOT when I was younger though. Y’know kids.. They NEVER seem to be able to simply walk around. They HAVE to sprint like they’ve got crazy axe murderers chasing after them all the time. That was me. Hyperactive and thoroughly annoying.

Right now, I am sitting in my room positively dying of hunger but refusing to go downstairs to make some food in the kitchen cos I’m afraid of the dark. At 23 years old. Which is, coincidentally, another fault of my sister’s who told me back when I was a tiny speck of a child that ‘monsters exist’.

It is no wonder we have such an aggressive love-hate relationship.