Injustice Letter

To my ADD and chronic anxiety,

I hate both of you with a passion. You have messed up my life on more occasions than I can count.  I hate the fact that my ADD forces me to wait until the last possible moment to do my work, and forces me to turn in substandard work. I hate the fact that my thought process gets jammed until I mess up, which is terrible for one-off scenarios (final exams).  I hate how it’s preconditioned people to believe I’m obnoxious by choice. Nobody can accurately gauge how serious it is. People either dismiss as nothing, or believe that it is so seriousness, I’m an incompetent moron who is unable to do anything.

I dislike the fact that it’s not  ADD, but a host of other problems that crop up as a result like my anxiety. My anxiety has screwed me over more times than I can count. It’s cost me a great deal of success, and forced me to spend more time in failure than other people. I have to work harder for less.  It causes me to spend lots of time wondering if I’m predestined for failure.

The “solution” is even worse. I’ve missed more than my fair share of my Friday night opportunities  that offered me the perfect chance to socialize by going to doctor’s appointments …. to talk about why I’m not socializing.  At the beginning of Freshman year, when everyone was forming their high school friendships, I missed out due to the double-whammy of not being allowed to be an athlete and having the doctor’s appointments increased.  Missing the “easy” classes for those doctor’s appointments means they become harder than they should be. The medicine is even worse. A perpetually guilty feeling. The inability to enjoy food or sleep properly. It’s created “snapbacks” where I essentially lose all short-term memories and go “Where am I? What am I doing? Why am I here?”. The closest way I can describe it as akin to the Doctor regenerating. Same Memories, Same Experience, Different Personalities.



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