Since I've joined Odyssey, I've written extensively about many of my conditions, including chronic illness, OCD, hearing loss, selective eating, and more. One thing I've mentioned, mostly in passing, is one of my earliest diagnoses, Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder: or, as the layperson is likely to call it, "ADHD."

Part of the reason I've avoided writing about my ADHD is because, for something everyone has heard of, it really isn't taken very seriously. There is no gravitas associated with the disorder. ADHD, like OCD, finds its most popular representations in various obnoxious t-shirt slogans; and unlike OCD, you can't even find the odd television show where it's portrayed as a real detriment to the disordered person. In magazines, they warn about over-diagnosis and over-medication as opposed to its actual impediments. Basically, let's be real – as far as most of the world is concerned, ADHD is a big joke.

But the thing is, it's not.

I'm going to take a moment to get personal here. Physically and mentally, I have a lot of health problems holding me back. I have sleep disorders, I have anxiety disorders, I have gastrointestinal problems, neurological problems, hearing problems, so on and so forth. But hands down, the one barrier that has caused the most detriment to my ability to achieve success is my ADHD. More than fatigue, more than nausea, more than anything else I've got going on. This isn't to say the other things don't matter – they do. But ADHD is the first frontier.

ADHD isn't just being distractible and liable to procrastinate and/or talk too much. Like most chronic conditions, it impacts just about every part of my life. It also affects more people than you think. ADHD isn't just for rambunctious young boys; it is present in people of all ages and genders. More than 9% of minors and around 6% of adults meet ADHD criteria, if not more. Information about under-diagnosed groups, such as women or inattentive-types, is ever broadening. Nor does ADHD impact everyone equally: there are multiple subtypes, it can present different ways at different points in one's life, and symptoms have a vast range of severity. And yet, thousands of people today still believe that ADHD is a myth perpetuated by "big pharma," a misdiagnosis of lazy children, or simply bad parenting.

The truth is, people with ADHD are usually anything but lazy. In fact, it takes more effort and hard work for us to accomplish tasks that others might find simple. While another person might put off a task because it's boring or unpleasant, an ADHD person could spend hours trying desperately to focus or garner motivation, only to end up with the same result of a procrastinated project.

Let me try to explain. A lot of what comprises ADHD symptoms is a battle for stimulation. There is a feature in the ADHD brain which, while it's supposed to promote focus, is chronically under-stimulated. Think of it as a computer with a worn-out battery: it may be able to run well with power, but it can't hold fuel unless it's constantly plugged in. Where other computers might hum away perfectly fine for hours before needing more charge (read: stimulation), the ADHD brain/computer needs the input of energy (stimulus) constantly in order to accomplish any of its goals. And like any electronic with a bust battery, any tiny task could wipe out its energy.

It's a lot more complicated than this, of course. For instance, over-stimulation can be as much of a problem as under-stimulation, because the ADHD brain is always attempting to grab onto a focus. If there's too much going on, it's as hard to latch on as when there's nothing going on at all. Plus, it's almost impossible to prioritize. If you're up for another metaphor, try imagining a broken alarm system; everything is the most important and urgent thing, always. It's like a constantly shifting word cloud, only all the words are the biggest and loudest at all times—it's really no wonder we lose track of important tasks and forget things we should remember. It's impossible to process or organize thoughts when everything in your head is red and has sirens on. And even when you can latch onto something and really focus on it, it might just be the wrong thing... and then you've spent nine hours researching obscure lunar calendars, forgotten to eat, and still have seven overdue assignments.

Probably some of the worst impacts of ADHD, though, are the little things. It's the stuff people make fun of us for, until it's a big problem—and then people really tend to judge us. It's one thing to watch a grumpy, ADD-coded teen on TV complain about how hard it is to do homework; it's another to actually be that person. For every hour a neuro-typical person spends getting their assignments done, I spend six hours of stress and frustration trying to get my mind to hold still, my thoughts to organize, my fingers to stop tapping, et cetera, and try and churn out words that make logical sense. Half of that time is expending buckets of energy staring at a blank document or paper, knowing that I am physically capable of filling it, but feeling too stuck and overwhelmed to even start; like a watch with a grain of sand stuck between cogs, keeping the gears from moving forward. It's not a pleasant feeling.

And then there's forgetfulness – like the bumbling husband who always misplaces his keys. Only, in movies, there's always a helpful wife who knows exactly where they are, true to hetero-sexist, trope-y values. In reality, constantly losing or forgetting things is nothing short of disastrous. I can't count the panic attacks or breakdowns I have had due to losing my car key or cell-phone in the last minutes before I am supposed to leave for an important event. I've driven three hours before from a mountain range back to my apartment before realizing my keys were gone and I had no way to get inside my home. I've lost my favorite jackets, misplaced wallets, missed obligations, and forgotten assignments. I've been unable to recall the first part of a sentence I'm only halfway through, vanished entire conversations or outings from memory, and lost track of people, thoughts, and belongings alike.

Sometimes you forget things that are important to other people, and it impacts your relationships. It's incredibly distressing to feel like your mind is a sieve, or like you have no control over what will stay and what will slip out like a ghost; it can be even worse to feel how people's impressions of you are shaped by your 'unreliable' nature – and this goes for forgetfulness and lack of focus alike, particularly when it comes to an academic or work setting where you regularly fail to complete or turn in assignments that you are theoretically 100% capable of doing.

Having ADHD is kind of like having bad habits that you never chose to start and are near impossible to change. For instance, setting up healthy routines may be useful to a lot of people who struggle with time management or procrastination, but even establishing a consistent routine in the first place is like climbing mountain for someone with ADHD. Every organizational technique seems to have a caveat. All you have to do is organize these files every week – but how do you remember to do it so regularly? All you have to do is write things down on an easy-to-access piece of paper – which you immediately lose and forget ever existed. "Just set aside the amount of time you need," is nice advice for someone who can visualize time. And timers are great, except that three seconds after it's gone off you've already gotten distracted. All of this effort is happening all the time, and it's incredibly hard to find any solutions that really work for the peculiarities of the ADHD brain.

This is especially true for the comorbid person. And—surprise, surprise—comorbidity, or having more than one condition at once, is extremely common for people with ADHD. According to research studies, up to 65% of children with ADHD will have another condition at some point in their lives. People with ADHD are at greater risk for depression, substance abuse, anxiety, sleep problems, conduct disorders, and more. We're more likely to get traffic citations, drop out of school, have eating disorders and/or weight problems, and die by the age of 45 (no, seriously). There's even a common facet of ADHD called 'rejection-sensitive dysphoria,' or RSD, which leads us to have hyper-reactions to perceived insults or negativity, often in a way which can impact our relationships with other people. This all despite the fact that people with ADHD are often overwhelmingly bright and creative achievers.

I'm a gifted child, and I was always told that I could achieve anything if I put my mind to it. The problem is, there came a time when I realized I couldn't just put my mind where it needed to be, and no one seemed to believe that I was trying. I know, both from personal experiences and from the feedback I receive from teachers and peers, that I'm an intelligent and talented student; but at age 23, I still am struggling to complete a 4-year degree. I have yet to successfully pull off a semester with a full course load where I didn't have to withdraw from a course or get an incomplete just to pass the term. I regularly forget or lose important belongings, I can't concentrate for the life of me (even on things I wholeheartedly enjoy or want to do), and it feels impossible to complete projects or keep track of time. I struggle with my ADHD every day, and I'm still trying to find a combination of lifestyle management and medication to help deal with it.

Not everyone is as impacted by their ADHD as I am, and some have it worse. But universally, I think we all want the same thing: for our problems to be taken seriously; to be respected; to not be made into a joke or a t-shirt slogan. Listen to us. Acknowledge our struggles. Be a little more forgiving. I, for one, like to hope that that's not too much to ask.