My dad has also looked at the wrong end of an arrow or a machete, I assume at some point with us kids playing nearby  

 (well, not quite, but I was rather unaware).
For me what still stings a bit today (although now my soul just tends to roll its eyes) is the feeling of "otherness".  I will never be from the place I´m physically in at the moment, even if I were to go back to where I grew up.  I´ll never be from somewhere - I kind of just pick out of a hat, whatever will get me by with the least amount of questions.  I was a foreigner at Via.  Wearing my american clothes in Montana, I looked so "tropical" - little did they know that if I were to wear the exact same clothes in Brasil, I´d have "gringa" plastered all over me.  In Bolivia, nem se fala/don´t even go there.  I don´t mind it so much any more - it´s not necessary for others to understand me so much, I´m glad if I can wrap my mind around who they are, a bit.
Something else that used to bother me is the way I felt I would become someone else in different places - I thought I was being a hypocrite.  I don´t think that´s the case - I´m just fitting in with different parts of me.  That was traumatic while it lasted.  What still is traumatic is when/if my different groups of friends cross - one from one group is with me when I´m with the other group - how do I make those two mesh?  Can I be the both of me at the same time?
Is this making any sense?  Do I need lithium or a straightjacket?  

 <-- that´s a cackle.