“Those people”. You know those people who ruin your life. The ones who, when you have FTD, tell you that you can’t drive, go out alone, cook anything, use sharp scissors and pretty much anything else you want to do.
Those people are the pits aren’t they? When you have FTD, they make you take a shower and change your clothes when you don’t want to.
Those other people – the ones who don’t live at your house, but somehow seem to control your life, they take away your driver’s license, tell you that your new debit card is in the mail and block your internet.
Those people at the supermarket, they count out your change, but you’re not sure if it’s right or not. Those people at the airport, they tell you to walk through the little tunnel thing and then tell you to stop when it beeps.
If only your mouth worked properly, you’d be able to explain that you’re not a child or an imbecile. It’s just that your brain gets mixed up.
Those people keep hiding the cookies, damn them. And the chips and the ice cream. When you put your boots in the freezer though, you found the ice cream. And ate it. All of it. Yum.
When you spoke to those people in the bar, they smiled and nodded. Then moved away slowly. When you asked someone a question in the bookstore, they turned and walked away. Perhaps they were foreign and didn’t speak English?
When you went into the bathroom, those people helped you take off your shorts and underwear. But what is that white round thing on the floor? What do you mean, sit down? You’re standing there half-naked. But what are you supposed to do now? Pull up your shorts and go out of the room. Oh, so frustrating, they just don’t get it, those people.
When you have FTD, those people just don’t get it.