It is a while since I’ve written a more personal blog. Unfortunately, the old patterns are still there. When I’m having a bad day, my thoughts go back to my emotional and physical struggles as a child and how I struggled to know what was wrong with me.
The worst part of my childhood was not the physical condition, but living with the emotional frustration and ignorance because I didn’t have a diagnosis. Having to wait 46 years to find out made me angry and frustrated and those became my struggle.
Between others telling me there was nothing wrong and my failing to comprehend exactly what I was dealing with, compounded my struggle. The irony is that underneath the anger I was caring, compassionate and empathetic.
It was a long time in coming, but it was something my father would go on to tell me just months before he passed.