Unreasonable 4 Lyfe

So I took a look at the title of my last post, and realised that, though I had used that title as an attempt at humour ( something I've never been good at try as I might ), I really should explore that topic, for real. I was sitting on my bathroom counter, and the situations kept running through my head, expanding, until I had created in my head what is to be this post now: INFORMATIVE! Who knows, maybe I can get ADHD to write something from his perspective.

Now THAT would be informative, if I've ever heard such a definition of the word.

(We will return to adventures next post, I promise.)

I suppose before I get into the meat of things ( har har.. I'm a vegetarian.) it would be imperative to explain how exactly my brain works. The first facet to understand is my thought process is completely non-linear. I described it to ADHD a week or so ago as like those Bing commercials on tv. I take one simple thought, and my brain runs with it resulting in huge tangential conversations which, eventually, return to my original point.

For example, you could ask me about Napoleon Bonaparte. I can answer your question but then my brain goes, NAPOLEON? NAPOLEON DYNAMITE, DYNAMITE- I ONCE MADE C4, C4- THAT'S A CHORD I LEARNED IN CLASSICAL PIANO, CLASSICAL NAPOLEON- OOH NAPOLEON DESSERT- I HAVE A RECIPE FOR THAT, RECIPE - RECIPE FOR DISASTER, DISASTER - NAPOLEON'S DEATH.

I'm not kidding. You should hear some of the long, intricate conversations ADHD and I have when we sit up talking all night on his nights off. They are like epic gladiator battles of words and ideas, crashing into each other, dancing around each other til they fall over from total exhaustion.

So there's point one.

As a result of this, my attention span is around that of a gnat, or maybe a three year old child. I can't sit through commercials, as a matter of fact as I write this post I have two auxiliary conversations going on to combat my incessant, unrelenting boredom- which is the next point.

When I am bored, or want something, it is pure, insatiable WANT, and it gets personal QUICKLY. To put this in perspective, imagine you are at an amusement park. It's 105 degrees outside, the middle of the summer. You have ridden all of the rides, it's the end of your day. You're thirsty, and all you want is a drink of water. You don't care if it is a fountain, a bottle a glass. You just NEED THIS WATER. You go to EVERY PLACE you could find water, there is NONE. You are bored with the rides. You are hot. You are incredibly uncomfortable. You want to scream, yell and pull out every hair on your head because ALL I WANT IS A FUCKING GLASS OF WATER!!!

That's how I feel about everything.

I remember one day, ADHD had been asked to pick up a shift at work on his day off. I was absolutely INCENSED.

"It's your day off." I recall saying flatly.
"Sweetheart, it's only a few hours. B asked me to pick it up as a favour."

As soon as B's name left ADHD's lips, my indignation turned to disgust. I am convinced that B, an old friend of his whom I dislike for reason I wish not to discuss (however minor), is doing this to manipulate ADHD, and by proxy, me.

"Of course he did. He always wants you to pick up the slack. HE IS TRYING TO RUIN MY LIFE."

Usually in situations like this, ADHD will smile, sigh and hug me, or kiss me on the face, and assure me he will be back soon. He is really the only person who can placate me adequately enough for me to not see it's the not the end of the world.

ADHD is a good match for me because for some reason, he is absolutely immune to my normal methods of manipulation. If I break something, he tells me to have fun cleaning it up. If I say something personal, he's got something to one up me. If I freak out, he tells me to take my supplements. He is the only person who can get me to just fucking relax.

My emotions generally span seven things: Inconvenience, frustration, disdain, amusement, pride, elation, and sometimes in a great once in awhile, deep and consuming love.

I don't do people favours. They are inconvenient to me and unless I stand to gain some amusement or personal gain from them, I will generally refuse. But when I love someone, be it platonic or romantic, it is the most deep seated, loyal love you could imagine. The handful of true friends I have, I would go to the ends of the earth for. I am fiercely protective of them, and want to carry them anywhere and everywhere I go. I feel so bonded with them, it's like they are a part of me.

Then there is the love I have for ADHD.

The love I have for him could absolutely eat me alive. I find myself saying things like "Sure", and "Absolutely sweetheart". I would almost say I coo over him, stroking his hair, kissing his forehead, and using pet names like baby doll and doll face. When he comes home from work I revert from 27 to approximately 5; I run down the hallway and throw my arms around him, always smiling at him, pressing my face into his chest. I love his smell, the cadence in his speech patterns, the reverberation tones of his voice, his facial expressions, how soft his fingers are. If it wasn't reciprocated 100%, you could almost call it obsessive.

But beyond that, he UNDERSTANDS me. Our level of nonverbal communication is astounding. I can tell him the deepest most perverse or private thoughts I have, and he always listens. I don't feel crazy, or inconvenienced around him. I truly feel like he is an extension of me.

Aside from ADHD and the few friends I feel bonded with though, forget it. You will be met with "So what?", "Uh-huh", "I can't", "Do it yourself" or "I don't care".

That's why you can't reason with someone like me.

Why you can't reason with a sociopath... or a psychopath, for that matter.

I always tell ADHD he takes everything away from me. He hates Christmas, therefore doesn't celebrate it- I try to negotiate with him saying I don't celebrate Jesus, just presents. He retaliates by saying he hates consumerism. I told him I was going to buy a convertible because I'd always wanted one, he tells me they're death traps ( yet he salivates over the tiny Smart Cars and insists they're safer). I tell him I want a maid, he says it's impractical and they'll just steal our shit ( though we can have one when we move overseas, because the houses have built in maid's quarters. Upon asking if I could lock the maid in at night, he relented and said yes. ).

He did agree to satin sheets though.

So in lieu of this, I've been asking him for various pygmy animals, partially because I want SOMETHING exotic and miniature, partially for my own amusement. Thus far he has rejected my requests for a mini horse ( "Where are you going to keep it? It will just shit everywhere." ), a miniature potbellied pig ( "No! Do you know how big those things get? Only if I can name it Bacon and eat it." ) and this morning, a pygmy hippopotamus.

Admittedly, the hippopotamus was a stretch, but I saw one of my girlfriends post about one on Facebook and decided to give it a try.

"Honey? Can we get a pygmy hippopotamus?"
"...A hippo? What the fuck do you want with a hippo?"
"They're adorable. Don't you think so?"
"No, they're also mean as shit."
"I'd raise it to be nice."
"Yeah, because that works out with people who raise wolves really well."
"They're not even that big."
"Not even that big? Like a half a ton instead?!"
"No! Like 400lbs. And they only stand 32 inches high."
"Gross. I'll tell you what. You can get a hippo if after you raise it, I can eat it."

ADHD often says he will allow me to bring animals into our household if he can eat them. I've often been tempted to test this theory, but I'd be broken hearted if he went through with it.

My version of mental instability is different, but often lends a complement to his- I often think if we were the same version our marriage would end up a compacted real life version of The Most Dangerous Game, except implicitly more interesting due to us both having a working knowledge of subtle chemical compounds; though I will admit his repertoire surpasses mine.

This morning, after an hour long wakeful spell ( we have an extremely odd sleep schedule ), we were jolted by one of the neighbour's car alarms. When we chose this apartment due to the location and the fact that it was new; the leasing agent assured us it would be perfect for our needs. Three months later, it appears that we are the only family on the block who isn't either a) bogged down with 3 or more children under the age of six or b) on government assistance. Deduce from that what you will.

Either way, both ADHD and I have an insatiable hatred for car alarms. I've always been an easy target for irritance; everything grates on my nerves, I am particularly sensitive to sounds, and go from zero to takeoff tantrum in about thirty seconds. I'm the kind of person who throws things for intimidation ( doesn't work in my marriage- tried it ), yells at the top of my lungs, swearing, cursing and insulting ( also doesn't work ) and threatens to push people out of moving vehicles (wouldn't dare try it). I would venture ADHD experiences a similar level of irritation, but his coping mechanisms are a touch different from mine.

"Oh my fucking god. Are you serious?" I asked, rolling my eyes over to meet his when the alarm continued to shriek.
"If that doesn't stop soon, I am going to firebomb that fucking engine. I see thermite in my futurrrrrre!" He replies, dragging out the last phrase in a singsong voice and flashing a grin at me.
I laugh so hard tears spring to my eyes, til I look over and see he isn't laughing.
"You don't think that's funny?"
He scoffs. "I'll think it's hilarious when I'm burning holes in that n*gga's engine."

I dissolve into laughter, and tell him I love him.

The Beginning

Hi, my name is Sociopathy. I'm 27 years old, and I live in New Orleans. I'm smart, well read and well traveled, cuter than average, take my clothes off for a living, and have a general bored disdain for the general public. I was pretty fatigued, annoyed, maybe even disenchanted with my life until eleven weeks ago, after a surprisingly romantic, whirlwind, week long story book romance, I married my husband ADHD; a tall, handsome man who is just as disturbed as I am, and whose powers of persuasion are augmented by a smooth Louisiana accent that reminds me of warm syrup.

The universe has sent me my match. This is my story.

My husband and I are big fans of ShitMyDadSays. We read the Twitter religiously, scarfed down the first chapter released to the public like it was our job. Then he decided to rip the whole book off the internet ( because he lacks the ability to acquire any entertainment legally- I'm ok with that. I bet you didn't get all two seasons of True Blood and the new episodes FOR FREE. Or Family Feud for that matter. ) and we haven't touched it yet, but that's beside the point.

"Every time I read these quotes off the Twitter I hear it in your Dad's voice." ADHD says to me one day.

I look over at him quizzically. "WTF? My dad? I always considered my Dad a cross between Homer Simpson and William Shatner."

He purses his lips, does that up and to the left thing with his eyes thing people do when they think about things.

"Still. I hear it in your Dad's voice, don't ask me why."

"You know, fuck ShitMyDadSays. I should make ShitMyHusbandSays."

And that's where the idea came from. Somehow I figured Twitter wouldn't do it justice when he scoffs "Psh. Go-go Gadget dick!" while resting his head in my lap with his eyes closed when Robot Chicken plays in the background, or "LOOK AT THAT BIG VEINY TRIUMPHANT BASTARD!" while cruising through AdamandEve.com at 4am after we've been watching porn bloopers for, oh say, over five hours.

Yeah five hours. What can I say, some of those accidental threesomes are funny.

Which brings me to Armageddon.

ADHD and I had been sitting up per usual on his night off, slumber party style ( "Did you make a blanket fort?" one of our mutual friends asked me once. I told her I'd definitely bring it up next time. ) when the topic of felching comes up. Now if you're one of those who has a weak stomach, read no further. With us, there's no subject uncovered, especially when we're strung out on our own delirium.

"Oh, no one really does that, it's an urban legend," I replied to ADHD's insistence. "It's just created to gross people out."

"I'm serious!" He insisted. "People REALLY do that. I didn't make it up!"

I was still skeptical, and squinted my eyes at him.

"Yeah, sure, ok. You're just trying to gross me out."

In less than two seconds he'd pulled up the browser and Googleslapped me with such a force I was surprised I hadn't been magically ball gagged.

"RIGHT HERE. LOOK." he pulled up this magical video on YouTube.

I listened in horror, my eyes getting wide, mouth dropping open more and more every second, until I heard the words

I STUCK A CARDBOARD TUBE UP HIS RECTUM

and was forever scarred while ADHD howled with laughter.

I couldn't help but join in, despite my state of horror because there's a particular thing about ADHD'S laughter. He's not one to laugh very much in every day circumstances, barring you fall down the stairs or the puppy next door gets hit by a car. I understand this, seeing as I have zero sense of humor, and can sit by with my head cocked, a look of confusion splashed across my face while he and everyone else laugh their asses off about some blue dude putting eels in someone's belly. Usually, his dark eyes are sort of smoldering in disdain at the the customer base that evening at work, or his full lips are curled into a snarl threatening to pistol whip the neighbours, which is a huge dichotomy for me because for Chrissakes, how can someone have such a handsome face and be so evil at the same time?

I swear Abercrombie boys would just burst into flames if they came even remotely close to him.

I digress, when something strikes ADHD as funny, it always catches me off guard. Like the time I was sitting so innocently beside him in bed, reading my eclectic sampling of blogs, when all of the sudden he bursts into laughter so loud I swear I jumped ten feet in the air.

"HE'S WEARING BEDAZZLED PANTS! HAHAHAHAHA! OH MY GOD. BEDAZZLED PANTS!" He was laughing so hard, he could hardly catch his breath and tears are sparkling in the corners of his eyes. I looked at him, wild eyed and frazzled having been ripped out of my peaceful reading selection and exclaimed

"What the fuck? Who's wearing bedazzles pants?!"

"The guy, this guy in the video! Oh my god!"

Ladies and gentlemen, the video was none other than What What In The Butt. Frankly, I can watch the whole thing without cracking a smile. What I can't do is watch him laugh like that without cracking a smile.