There is a song that made me cry the first time I heard it. Every time since, the result is the same. I weep deeply.
It’s a funny thing though. Ask anyone who knew me and they would think NO WAY this applies to Jim. I think that’s the point.
The 1996 revival of the musical Chicago was playing on Broadway when the boat was in Manhattan during the summer of 99. Though broke, I found a way in to see pretty much every play that I could. That was summer I saw Chicago. That summer I heard this turn delivered so beautifully by John C. Reilly:
Here are the lyrics for those of you not inclined to clink a link:
If Someone Stood Up In A Crowd
And Raised His Voice Up Way Out Loud
And Waved His Arm And Shook His Leg
You'd Notice HimIf Someone In The Movie Show
Yelled "Fire In The Second Row
This Whole Place Is A Powder Keg!"
You'd Notice HimAnd Even Without Clucking Like A Hen
Everyone Gets Noticed, Now And Then,
Unless, Of Course, That Personage Should Be
Invisible, Inconsequential Me!Cellophane
Mister Cellophane
Shoulda Been My Name
Mister Cellophane
'Cause You Can Look Right Through Me
Walk Right By Me
And Never Know I'm There...
Anyone who’s known me for any time would think this to be absurd. There’s never a time when we don’t know that Jim’s there. If we don’t know, Jim let’s us know.
I’ve had a reputation for being big, taking up space and needing to be seen. While I may have been seen, the disability I have lived with my entire life has not. Instead, I’ve been seen as rude, angry, impulsive, attention seeking, melodramatic, lazy, white male privileged … the list goes on constantly.
I’ve been blamed for my disability. It’s been considered a character flaw. I’ve been considered highly problematic1 Everyone missed something. I have a cellophane disability. You can’t see it. People can’t see me.
What’s worse, they’ve seen what they want in me.
I became the scapegoat the stand in and receiver for every titchy little bit of aggression and resentment that people have for people who look like me: male, straight, white, cis and fucking handsome as all get out.
Yes. I’m a hottie, a silver fox at fifty and LMFAO sing my theme tune.
Well… So did Right Said Fred
As did Justin (not Castro’s son)
I digress…
My entire life I’ve been invisibly disabled. Adult ADHD is a cellophane disability.
Sure, you might not see it, but wrapped up tight in a cellophane disability, I’ve been wheezing and struggling to breath while getting blamed for making a noise.
What are you missing?
What don’t you see?
What do you project onto others based on how they look?
Those who held this attitude will be given a full dose of my wrathful lack of impulse control should they