ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) is so much more than a rowdy child not sitting still in their seat. It’s so much more than blank stares and annoying interruptions. It’s not just a hopeless individual wondering around aimlessly, unable to recollect where they even were before they were here. It’s a blessing and it’s a curse in the most frustrating of ways.

ADHD is my high school counselor telling me I wasn’t trying hard enough. She told me I was failing because I wasn’t showing up. I wanted to do well in school so badly. I wanted to try. But every time I reached out for help, I received a slap on the wrist for one thing or another. I was a careless student to some, a struggling one to others, but either way I was failing. So I stayed at home, curled up in bed because I couldn’t bring myself to constantly face the failure each and every day. I was tired of “not trying hard enough”.

ADHD is anxiety between each deadline. Do I even remember the right one? I didn’t write it in my planner. Where did I put my syllabus again? If I email my professor, I may get that dreaded slap on the wrist again. I can’t do that. I can’t bother them because I’m not capable of remembering a simple date. I should have gone to disability services. I should have told them I had ADHD on the first day of classes, like my psychiatrist told me to. But I don’t deserve accommodations. I don’t deserve understanding. Because it’s just a matter of me not trying hard enough.

ADHD is the amount of times I repeat the beginning of a sentence because I want others to listen to me- even though someone else might be talking. I can’t stop myself from doing it over and over and over again. I hear myself in my head and my mind is screaming at me to just shut up. I’m being rude and I know it, but sometimes people just don’t listen to me. I’m just as afraid of being heard as being unheard. So I skip and fumble my words because I don’t know what I want out of the interaction. I don’t know what else to do.

ADHD is all or nothing. I either want to sit down and do my schoolwork for an hour straight, or avoid it at all costs. Maybe I was able to pay attention to the lecture that day or maybe it was a concept I found interesting. Maybe I want to drown myself in the subject matter and think of that and only that until the task is finished. Maybe I can’t even remember where I parked my car before class and end up searching for it for ten minutes. How am I supposed to retain something someone spent an hour talking about if I can’t even remember seeing an open spot, pulling in, putting my car in park, getting out, looking at the direction I should walk in, and going that way? I can’t, so I leave it untouched. I ready myself for not getting out the papers when the professor asks for it. I ready myself for telling the professor I just didn’t do it or I didn’t have it with me because I couldn’t remember to put it up after I stared at it blankly for a handful of minutes. I don’t bother explaining my disorder until it’s too late and they tell me I should have told them sooner. I feel ashamed for not saying anything. I’m irresponsible. I don’t try hard enough.

ADHD is watching everything around me and daydreaming about it. I see people interact with each other- girls walking down the street in groups or an older man sitting alone on a bench. I hear bits and pieces of conversations and take note of them. I remember things from my past, funny or serious, and want to transform them into something people can read. I want them to see what I’ve seen and feel what I feel. I crave the understanding people find between interesting phrases or complicated characters. I create worlds from fragments of all the memories and observations. I give characters the breath of life they need to give myself a sigh of relief. My words streamline into my voice on the pages I write. I don’t ruin my words there. I toy with them back and forth in my hands, working them this way and that way. I don’t try hard, but that’s only because I haven’t felt the need to.

ADHD is wanting to incorporate my voice, my touch, my everything in whatever I do because sometimes it’s the only thing to keep me going throughout the day. It’s my professor taking a look at my paper and asking me if I’m a writing major and nodding his head when I tell him I plan on pursuing writing next semester. He tells me that that’s good, that I have a clear voice when I write. So I start to embrace the way I view things even more. I start to draw inspiration from places I’d never let myself before. I try and I try hard. I let go of things that I love, but didn’t love enough. They were holding me back and the realization is both earth-shattering and freeing. I am determined about everything.

ADHD is the world doused with so much color and light that it hurts. It’s all the pain I’ve ever felt and all the joy at the same time. I’m out of control when it comes to having my disorder, but I’m in control when it comes to how I want it to affect my life. Granted it’s definitely not as easy as flipping a switch, but I’m hoping that I can keep swaying the symptoms in my favor as I’m learning to do now. Medication has helped immensely and I feel as if I can finally hold my entire future in the palm of my hand. ADHD is how I plan to prove the world wrong. It’s me trying my hardest, in spite of what others have told me.