When I was in the kindergarten, we had to stand in front of a crowd of people in our graduation ceremony and declare what we want to be when we grow up. Most people had their usual responses, like I want to be a pilot or a farmer or a police officer. Me? I wanted to be just about everything. In line at the ceremony, I juggled what to say, bouncing from race car driver to architect to listening to whatever kids were before me and envisioning having that be a dream as well. I kept thinking this and remember asking my dad, who was present at the graduation but not very involved with talking to me because his friend and my godfather was there and they were catching up. He didn’t really help me when I asked, but I do remember him hating George W. Bush. And just like that, I wanted to be president. And I didn’t want it for any reason other that I wanted my dad’s attention and I wanted to say something when called on me. So, when the time came and I stepped up to that podium, I said “I am going to be the President of the United States!” and the audience applauded. Heavily applauded. I LOVED that feeling. The feeling of a bunch of people applauding ME? Including my DAD!? It was a real rush. I came up to him afterwards, only for him to look down on me and laughing, saying “You’d probably do a better job than Bush!”

I am pretty sure that is what I’ve been chasing my entire life. The applause, the attention, the proof that I am loved. In middle school, I went to a church camp and we were going to be grouped up in teams for future events throughout the weekend. The way they organized it is buy writing the names of animals under everyone’s seats and having them make animal noises in order to find there other teammates. Everyone else got these really loud animals like monkeys or dolphins or lions or what have you. I looked under my seat as was absolutely baffled to see “Goldfish” written on a slip of paper taped underneath this folding chair I’m sitting in, which is very separate from everywhere else because I was in middle school and kinda moody. However, I found it absolutely nerve racking because what in the absolute fuck does a goldfish sound like? So, as soon as everyone started, I started with a quiet act of small “blurps” and imitating a fish, going from animal group to animal group, finding myself to be almost isolated. Then, I went for a really loud choice of yelling “Fishy” from the top of my lungs as everyone else had confidently found their groups and I meshed myself in with dolphins (obviously because they were aquatic). When they were quieting themselves and asked if anyone didn’t find their group, they asked me why I was yelling Fishy and I said because I am a goldfish. The leaders started laughing, saying they only put it out there as a joke for themselves and didn’t believe anyone would pull it (mind you, there were about 3 rows that weren’t being used and I was in one of those rows, purposely excluding myself). After they had me settled into the dolphins, I remember feeling like all eyes were on me! And it felt really good.

Attention is a funny thing. We are social creatures, so by our very nature, we need it. I ended up doing theatre, and I remember yawning on stage in “Jesus Christ Superstar” because, well, I was inside myself and felt really bored just standing there on stage watching someone else perform. But the only reason why I was inside of myself was because I wasn’t the center of attention. I craved it. Social media addiction is real with me because it feels like I am the center of attention, even if it is for a minute. Still, to this day, a lot of what I do and am is about attention. Recently, my board game group started being a bit more organized and since it costs money, someone recommended we start a raffle to give away some board games. And, of course, my brain immediately went “you could turn this entire meetup into a non-profit organization to raise money for mental health” and I still feel bad even having the idea. Why? Because I want it to put attention on me. That is all I’ve ever wanted. Most people have actual interests, hobbies and passions they pursue. Me? I want attention.

When I was a kid growing up, I would go into my room, alone, and break out the “SpongeBob SquarePants Board Game” and would play against myself as all 4 players. You might think “Wow! You must love board games!”, but what I really loved was having my parents attention. And to me, the healthiest version of that love was in board games. We would play “Thowing Monkeys” for quite a bit, but also Uno (Bluff Uno, where as long as everyone recognize that you won, you win, even if you cheated) or Monopoly for like 3 days at a time (I no longer like Monopoly). But all that to me was just quality time. Now, I go to a weekly board game meetup, a Magic meetup, a Blood on the Clocktower meetup, and that is literally so fun and I truly do enjoy having this mix of games integrated in my life. Here is a thing- each of these games are happening separately from each other and there isn’t any collaboration amongst them. Not only that, but none of these things quite satisfies that itch for attention. And they all take so much time in themselves. And I still need my days to myself to do chores. And to incorporate another hobby into the current rotation to fulfill my attention deficit is not only expensive (since most of these hobbies either require classes or at the minimum, driving) but also time consuming (because these require literally daily practices). So I am literally choosing between chasing attention or having community. Kinda wish I could figure out how to have both. Thank you for reading and have a good day! -Damon 🙂