Here’s the thing, I know I sound whiny. I don’t care. Maybe I’m whiny, but I’m confident in what I’m about to say. Why? Well, I’ve existed for fifty-two years and I have some experience at living and in what I’m about to write.
The title of this article, A Theory of Conspiracy, came to me as I was trying to go to sleep tonight with a strained muscle in my back. I was unable to get settled and every time I turned over, normally I do so about five times before I fall asleep, it would twinge in pain and in between the rolls I was thinking about what it meant and why I had that thought.
When I was in school I didn’t fit in. I was wild and rambunctious and drove my teachers to the point that my first-grade teacher tied me to my desk many times to keep me in place. So many people would have said, and did, that it was my mother’s fault for not raising me right. My doctor told my mom I was hyperactive when I was ten and years later I was medically diagnosed by two doctors eleven years apart as having ADHD. Asa child I wasn’t treated for the Hyperactivity, I was chastised for it, I remember in the fifth grade, be paddled pretty much every day of that school year for not staying in my seat and for speaking out of turn and saying things the teacher objected to. As I said, I didn’t fit in.
By the time I was in the seventh grade … Continue Reading