
This post is not sponsored. At 18, I marched myself into the psychiatrist's office, my mother hesitantly in tow demanding to know why I was so different. As I sat there, my leg bouncing up and down while he asked me a number of questions and before the appointment had ended he had confirmed what I had thought for a while: I had ADHD. Having to navigate high school up until that point had been awful. It was constantly a game of catch up, ... read more



