Peace Be With You: Living The Storms


As I sit here writing this, I am exhausted. I am nervous, and I am afraid. Yet I am also content, happy, hopeful. Sometimes it seems that all emotions are swirling through me at any given moment, and the one that presents itself to the world is not something I can control.

I was recently diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder - Inattentive Type. What does that mean? I am still figuring that out. Mostly, it feels like I am living in a storm all the time. I am impulsive in my actions and my words; I can become hyperfocused and obsessive-compulsive for hours - or months - at a time, then suddenly become completely disinterested and overwhelmed at the idea of continuing what used to be my passion. My mind is constantly in the middle of a bloody battleground where there are no winners; instead, the "winner" is the damaged mask that gets to present itself to the world. Yet it is not really a mask - it is just one of many aspects of who I am.

Growing up, I felt like I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time, saying the wrong things to the wrong people. I thought it was a cultural thing - my parents were born in the south, and I was raised in the north for the first part of my life. Every year we would spend precious vacation time visiting family in the south. When my mom and dad divorced, things became even more confusing as I moved back and forth between north and south, struggling to find a place that felt like home, a place where I belonged.

Most people don't realize how many differences there are between the north and the south. The differences are in everything - in the unspoken rules, the acceptable and unacceptable jokes, and in the acceptable amount of patience and reserve shown. Being impulsive by nature only made things worse. To compensate, I became more and more quiet, struggling to think before I spoke or acted, striving to read the people and the situation to learn how to speak and act. Rarely did I get to be myself. I retreated more and more into the world of books, searching for descriptions of social cues that I could not see in real life.

As I grew older, I did succeed in learning how to read social cues, but it is always a struggle. At the same time, my struggles have shaped my ability to help others ease their struggles. As I delve into my past and the past of those who have shaped me - my mother, my father, my siblings and friends - I have discovered a fountain of forgiveness for myself and for others.

People hurt people all the time. Sometimes they do it on accident, sometimes it seems they are doing it on purpose. However, even when it seems like people are directly attacking someone else, it is really themselves they are attacking or defending. The essence of my peace within myself is realizing that I am not perfect, and neither is anyone else. I strike out at people I love. I anger too quickly at times. Yet I love and trust easily. My anger is gone as quickly as it arrives most of the time. That being said, there have been many times in my past that I have been attacked by others based on imagined slights or discourtesies - actions that were usually impulsive, but the other people could not conceive of them being done without thought to the consequences.

Yet even in the midst of these attacks, I have learned to see through the attack to the reason for the attack. For example, a loved one was the proverbial "red-headed stepchild". Both parents did the best they could, but she never felt good enough for them. She always felt she was treated worse than anyone else - yet from there was no appreciable difference.

When this loved one attacks my choice of mate, my house, my pursuit of an education, and my upbringing of my kids, she is seeing these things through the filter of her pain. She has held fiercely onto her pain and forged it into a protective wall around her, not seeing that this wall is clouding her judgment, hurting those around her, and preventing her from finding happiness. In many ways, she does not even realize she is attacking me - in her mind, I am the one attacking and demeaning her. She sees my pride in my degree as arrogance. She sees my silence as disdain. She sees my words as an attack.


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