Much of my seminary studies provided me more insight into myself and as a leader. I have realized that leadership comes first through knowing one’s self. And it's from knowing yourself that you can understand others and how to lead them. However, it hasn't been an easy transition from knowing myself to knowing others. One of my entries may help you understand my dilemma:
Step-Dad is finally home. His speech is slurred, but he sounds happy. The kids are careful, keeping their distance. Maybe it’s safe tonight. But it wasn’t so safe last week when Jimmy got in the middle of a fight between him and my mom, and found himself picked up bodily and thrown into his room. I silently cry, “Why doesn’t mom just leave him alone and not ‘push his buttons’?”
Adult children of an alcoholic (ACA) don’t know what "normal" is from day to day. We spent our formative years trying to figure out the most basic assumptions of life that most people take for granted. This is due to the uncertainty of the parent(s) in our lives being unpredictable because of the nature of addiction. One day they could be mellow, the next on a tirade... We just retreat and don't try to figure it all out.
It’s not just violence that mars the psyche of a young boy or girl. More often than not, it’s a harsh, pointed criticism from a parent whose bar is ever so high to meet—and likely changes from time to time, depending on their mood. Grades are never good enough, chores are not done on time or exactly right, “Why aren’t you more like your sibling?”... and on it goes.
So now you’re grown up, and you've gotten away from that dysfunctional parent. You’re not going to be like them. You're not going to treat your kids like your parent did – you’ll be a great parent. Not so fast...
It seems your kids (or staff) can’t keep up with your expectations either. You correct them needlessly. You often find fault with what they say or do. They seem to be pulling away from you and becoming distant. Work is frustrating as well. You never seem to meet your high expectations for yourself. Constant change keeps you one step away from normalcy. You find yourself flashing-out in anger, not really knowing why.
It’s like you're going through life looking through a keyhole—you know, those old, skeleton keyholes in the doors at your grandparents' house?
You’re hiding behind the door, listening to the arguing and the occasional violence, and when it's quiet, peeking out the hole, spying out to see if it’s safe, if the mood is calm, and if mommy and daddy are friends or foes today. But, like using a large aperture on a camera lens, the background is fuzzy and out of focus. You keep asking, “What’s your ‘normal' today?”Your present problem is that you’re all grown up now. You aren’t that kid anymore—well, at least not on the outside. You’re still that little child looking at life through that keyhole. "When does it end? Will I ever grow up and know what normal is? Will the keyhole ever allow me to see the whole narrative? Will I ever be able to leave my fear in that closet?”