Jeff Weddle | @anti_itcher
“Hey, look at the cross-eyed monkey!” yelled the girl in front of me in the lunch line. Everyone turned to look.
Yup. I’m cross eyed. The official word for my eye problem is Juvenile Retinoschisis. I’m legally blind. I can’t drive. I can’t recognize faces well. I am not, however, a monkey.
Kids love to point out faults in others. I had an obvious fault they loved to pick on. I had a few good friends, but my larger experience with people is that they were all creepy jerks.
I tried as often as possible to melt into the background. If I don’t get noticed, I won’t get picked on. I kept my mouth shut. I also observed people so I could find their faults in case I needed to rip on them to defend myself.
By the time I was in junior high, I had sarcasm and ridicule down to a science. They became my most redeeming qualities. Friends would sit next to me just to hear my hilarious diatribes against teachers or other kids. I was a jerk, but a funny one.
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