When I was about 4-5 years old, I was diagnosed with a moderate to severe form of Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. This essentially meant that in most social situations, I exhibited unusual or spontaneous forms of behavior (such as cutting my hair with craft scissors in front of an entire classroom) and was unable to even maintain my attention to something for more than a minute. Needless to say, the doctor’s expected me to amount to nothing more than just another crazy, failed Ritalin child.
For much of my childhood, that certainly was the case. I had no friends. I was the subject of bullying, harassment, beatings from the other kids and my siblings. I was the target of all of the usual scorn from my mentor’s for my high maintenance nature. My parents were frustrated beyond belief at times when I failed to meet expectations at school and at home. Depression, suicidal thoughts, and the likes were typical for me. The way it seemed, my difference from the norm was what was driving me and those I cared for to the breaking point.
But, thing’s change. The belief and unconditional love that those who did care for me (my parents, a close friend, and a wonderful HS consular) helped me redefine my understanding of being “different”. They helped me realize that being different wasn’t something to be ashamed of or to be fearful of. It was something to be proud of, to embrace. Being different made you unique and gave the opportunity to take your life in unprecedented directions.
And well, that’s what I did. I’m double majoring in Political Economic’s and Anthropology and I’m one year away from getting my B.A.. I’m involved in multiple organizations on campus for social justice, and I helped co-found Bronies for Good. I have a great deal of friends and companions, and I’m doing my best to help make the world a bit of a better place for everyone.
Being different is what you choose to be. Make it great.