I’m sitting here clueless as to how to begin this hub. Ironically, when I’m away from my desk, I seem to know exactly what I want to say and exactly how I want to say it. My brain is absolutely flooded with just the right verbiage while I’m driving to work in the morning or when I’m walking through the aisles at the supermarket shopping for groceries. But as soon as I’m actually sitting here in front of the computer, I’m at a total loss. I’ve been pondering this phenomenon and wondering if it’s like this for other people. I’m sure I’m not alone. I often find myself getting fixated on the most mundane things.

So, being at a loss for words, I said to myself, just start talking. Say what you’re thinking and feeling even if it’s about nothing. Before you know it, you’ll be saying something.

I stumbled upon the HubPages by accident, read some of the hubs and found that I really enjoyed the diversity of the website. Hubs can be found relating to just about any subject and topic one can imagine.

When I first started writing hubs I had no specific goal in mind. I didn’t want to write “how tos” or “self-helps“ or get the greatest exposure and “make money” with my hubs. Mostly I just wanted a voice. I wanted to be heard. And I wanted an outlet for some of the poetry I’d been writing.

Now I've been thinking about using the hubs as a journal or diary. My own little reality show, replete with the recording of prominent events in my life, editorialized by my feelings about them. Whether anybody else is interested in what I have to say or cares about what I write is irrelevant. This place and time are about me, myself and I. This is where I get to be completely selfish and self-indulgent. Where I am the star. Where I shine. Where what I want counts and is important. My own little place in the vastness of the universe. A place to vent my anger and frustration with relationships past and present. A place to celebrate the joy, love, and happiness of my life and my family. Of course, if you read through the hubs, it's like getting short bursts into the story of my life, random, not in any particular order, but there none the less. 

I didn’t always enjoy writing or reading for that matter. As a child, my hyperactivity and inability to sit still and focus on any one thing for more than 15 seconds caused me a great deal of misery and suffering. I was always doing too many things at the same time, but never getting anything done. Reading and writing were especially difficult for me because I was so easily distracted. Every other word on the page would take my mind to another place. Or I’d get impatient and want to read a whole book all at once, or write five different stories at the same time.

Sitting still was, for me, a task tantamount to climbing Mt. Everest. In fact, climbing Mt. Everest might have been easier come to think of it. It would be doing something physical. Being in motion, walking, running, jumping, anything physical was always better than being inactive. I didn’t watch much TV as a child. It was too passive and I was too restless. I couldn’t sit still long enough to make it through an entire episode of any show. One commercial break was all I needed to lose focus and send my mind racing in a hundred different directions.

School was a torture. I went to Catholic school, where obedience and discipline were paramount. No matter how hard I tried, sitting quietly and politely in my seat during my lessons was close to impossible for me. I would fidget in my seat constantly and prayed for the release of recess and lunch periods. I was always in trouble for talking, being inattentive or disruptive, or the worst of all sins… daydreaming in class. It wasn’t so much that I wasn’t paying attention, it’s just that I’m a kinetic learner. I don't think the kind and saintly sisters knew anything about different learning styles back in those days. It seems like I struggled with everything. Controlling my impulses and following rules were also very difficult for me. My report cards were a parent’s worst nightmare. And my name was written all over the "board of education" the gigantic paddle the good sisters used for disclipline and punishment. You got to write your name on it if they ever used it on you.

I don't intend to make this a “What It Was Like To Be A Kid With ADHD In The Sixties” hub so I'll quit right now. But I have to say, it is THE challenging factor in my life. I can’t really say anything about myself without talking about that. Worse yet, it’s a family affair with both my daughters and my current husband facing the same struggles and challenges. I can honestly say, there are times when life in our house defies description. But for the most part, thanks to medications, various therapies and coping techniques our household is probably just about as “normal” as anybody else’s. We’re just wired a little bit differently that’s all.