As an empath and a left-handed person who thinks he’s ADHD, I’ve come to a stage in my life now, that looking at someone’s photo evokes feelings in my mind, that usually if not always, prove accurate.

I need to establish my qualifications first, so that my essay makes sense. I only became conscious or discovered the fact that I am an empath, in 2022. That means, for nearly four decades, I’ve been aware of a sort of power in my mind, which both fascinated me and irritated those who were on the receiving end of my estimation of their mental states.

Also, only a decade ago did I realize, to my surprise, that all left-handed people think alike, in certain ways: we have a sort of invisible-to-others mental powers of operating at a level that is only recognizable by other lefties; this power can be grossly translated as the ability to see through people in general, almost predicting their behaviours, and the more important mental power of not showing the extent of our knowing to others (that is, pretending not to know and appear as if).

Finally, although I suspect there may be many kinds of ADHD, the unifying feature is the ability to direct the mind to make immediate assessments of a person based on the most rudimentary data, such as a photo. I remember ‘cold-reading’ several people from their photos only, only to be told that I was 99% accurate, on all dozen occasions that span a decade.

ADHD’s are unfairly labeled as people who ‘suffer from executive function’, which is an euphemism for a loser who can’t get things done. I think I’m more qualified, than anyone else, when I, instead, self-proclaim myself as someone who has no time for useless, boring things. This is why I disdainfully look at the people running on threadmills in my neighborhood gym like rats in a never-ending maze, wondering how they can stand all the boredom?

Another aspect of being ADHD, at least the type I am, is the ability to sift through tons of information as fast as possible, so that I can free my brain RAM for more important things. This ability translate to extreme levels of critical thinking and sometimes even results in a sort of mild anxiety or a sort of perpetual paranoia and skepticism about people, which I alleviate with intense exercise and restful, adequate sleep.

But the cost is definitely worth the benefit: I’ve saved myself from countless very troublesome situations just because I read the person correctly, and took actions that prevented impending disasters. One such recent event was the surgery my cat, Wawa, underwent. The surgeon was good, and Wawa had to stay at the clinic for several nights. I’d visit my Wawa everyday though, and comfort, pet, and assure it of my love for an hour or more, and then leave.

The nurse on night-duty was a kind lady who I felt I could trust. A few days later, a new nurse was assigned who was extremely obese. As I arrived that day, one reading by my highly accurate mind informed me that she was bad news. I felt it like an electric shock the moment I looked into her eyes and deep into her soul. I smelled the ugliness of her personality disorders immediately, and as I probed further by engaging in small talk, I started to become increasingly alarmed about my Wawa’s welfare.

Although she pretended to be ’nice’, I saw right through her. I also knew she was xenophobe, and my left-handedness allowed me to estimate that she was going to hurt my cat that night; I called my wife to express my paranoia about Wawa, but she said I was ‘always thinking too much’. She’s sometimes right, but this was a case where I’d rather be accused of thinking too much than accept the other alternative: of my Wawa being hurt or abused or even killed.

My wife booked a ‘cat overnight stay for recovery from surgery’ at another pet hospital and I immediately went downstairs again, to take my Wawa out of that hell. As I entered the room, I was shocked to see the ‘collar’ Wawa had to wear had been become even tighter, making it difficult to breathe. I quickly loosened the collar and kissed my cat’s forehead and took it out of that damned place to a new hospital. The evil fatty had realized I’d seen right through her and was ‘invisibly’ fuming. But I had won and my Wawa was safe.