The roommate blow-up, the boss fiasco, the break up. Somehow people with ADD always fall short.
by Jane D.
Thanksgiving came to a fizzle and I guess we are officially into holiday season. Only this season doesn't feel very festive. It feels as blah as the gray sky. The family welcomed the pseudo-boyfriend-turned-friend with open arms. The father was extra chatty, the food on the table bountiful, and I am sure somewhere in his mind he was thinking, "Oh please, please let him take my daughter, anyone, someone take her!"
Over the past week I've been "lazy," in a half-vegetative state, as I ponder what to do down the road. The boss, who I've labeled Tyrantasaurus, is a nightmare. She gave me a very over-the-top tough assignment—kind of like make a five-tiered wedding cake in one night—and I can't deliver. I've already expressed to her fear and concern, and she says, "Try harder." They all say try harder, try harder.
I went on a weekend excursion with the pseudo-boyfriend now turned friend. As the girlfriends analyzed, we never had that "it" factor, the glue that bonds couples. We are around the same age, in the same attraction pool, we have some things in common, but physically and otherwise that "it" is missing. I am sorry about it because there's a lot he can offer, but what can I do. I can't force a square into a peg. Once again I feel like I can't do any right in life—with jobs, relationships, and such. Somehow people with ADD always fall short.
I fell short of telling the now guy friend about the ADD and the meds. He shared a story about another friend who has OCD, and who was super moody when she was off the meds. I wanted to say, "Hey, me too, I am like that too," but somehow the cat got my tongue again and I stopped short of it.
Rather I talked about my messed up childhood, the Bible-banging mother who cheated on the father, and of being abandoned. It all sounded very sound and perhaps a reason for my behavior, but in the end, not really. How does it explain that I seem so distant and detached at staff meetings or when I'm with friends?
The sister says that a time will come when I am comfortable with telling someone about my issues. "And the time is right when you don't need to ask," she says. She says that now is too early. She suggested explaining to others that I was having an Asian blonde-moment, and bringing some humor into the picture. She is right.
The next time I look catatonic when a friend talks, I will mock myself in Margaret Cho fashion. "Haha, Asia girl has a blonde moment," I will say, rather than internalizing what I would consider another failure.
Somehow though, the roommate blow-up, the boss fiasco, and the boyfriend blow-up seem like signs that something isn't right, that maybe we need a change—kind of like the political system. We need hope and change. After returning from the weekend excursion, I thought everything felt very stale and foreign. It was cold, uncertain, and, in that sense, extremely lonely.
Do you ever feel like something has outrun the course? Well, the drama feels like it. I thought to the conversation with the guy friend, that sometimes it is hard to simplify but maybe I just needed to do it repeatedly and think to myself that if I get on the right path, there are many sweeter years down the road.
Why must life be lived on a time line (even though yes, there is a physiological part of it)? The very thought that I am making a step forward helps despite all of the recent losses. As humans we fear change, but why is it such a bad thing? No, this time I will embrace it.