She sat hunched over a hot mug of coffee, sweetened with sugar and mellowed with creamer. Her intentions had been good. Today was going to be an ordered day. Things would get done at home. Problems would be solved.
In the time it took her to lift the coffee cup to her lips a list of tasks to be done filled her mind In the time it took her to take a drink of the coffee and place the mug back onto the table she forgot the tasks, forgot her list of first things first and fell into a reverie of random memories. Getting still in body and mind created a hole in her soul from which all manner of whimsy, drama, quilt, shame and magical thinking often poured. Frenetic activity closed off the hole and lessened her vulnerability. For this reason she doubted the diagnosis of ADHD. She believed her incessant moving of arms and legs, her procrastination, her impulsiveness and tender heart, linked together with a vivid imagination were the tools she used to stay away from that awful hole in her soul. Intuitively she knew her perspective was flawed. There would be a day of reckoning when her energy would run low, when magical thinking would not work and she would be left vulnerable and frightened.
Thinking of herself as vulnerable shifted her mood. She dug deep within to access the anger to mask the vulnerability. Even this tried and true skill was becoming difficult. She felt rather than knew the control slipping away from her. A sharp pain of angst knifed through her heart. Time was short. The day was coming when she would have to face herself without an armor. Or so she thought on that particular day.
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