I've known for a long time that I'm different from my peers.
When I was a freshman in high school, my mother brought me to see a child psychologist in Syracuse because I had been having trouble in school and my parents wanted to know why. Each report card was examined, standardized test scores were evaluated, every comment from every teacher was dissected, and he even read some of my most private pieces of writing. Together, my mother, the psychologist, and I went through my entire life story.
From the time I entered kindergarten until about seventh grade, I had always been known as the quiet, smart girl in the front row of every class. I kept straight A's easily and was even placed in the advanced math program in 3rd grade. I was creative. I loved to write, especially poetry. Eighth grade was when I more fully found my stride when it came to my writing ability.
I wasn't the typical teenager. I didn't visit my friends' houses as often as I could. I spent most of my time alone or with my family. During this time of isolation, I started to view the world differently than my friends. While most eighth graders would think about a new boy they just met, I would spend time in my room, thinking about my life and my actions. I came up with new thoughts on the reason of human existence, and how every action impacts the rest of the world. I incorporated this new subjects into my writing.
Dr. Meyer, the psychologist, noted that this was also when I first started having trouble in school. I had dropped the advanced math, but even then, my grades weren't as high as I had hoped. I kept most of my grades in the A-/B+ average, sometimes a C in math and science. Most kids would be happy with grades like this, but growing up with A's my whole life, I knew I could do better.
I was grounded, which forced me to study; I tried to focus more in class. I stayed with my teachers after school, hoping it would raise my grades. Being so restrained roused my creative side, and I wrote more than ever before.
Then came the transition to high school. The science and math classes were more rigorous, which I rebelled against because they were not my strongest subjects. I became withdrawn and irritable, finding solace only in writing. I couldn't express my feelings in healthy ways, and I couldn't confide in anyone.
It showed on my report card. In early winter of my freshman year, I failed Biology for one semester - I had never failed a class before. This was when my parents brought me to see Dr. Meyer, the psychologist.
Based on my report card decline and my recent writings, Mike concluded that I had transitioned from perfect right-left brain balance to right-brained dominance, with Attention Deficit Disorder added into the mix. It meant that the creative side of my brain, which allowed me such strong and powerful writing, was overshadowing my logical side. This, along with the inability to focus, was why I was doing so badly in school, especially in science and math.
Mike was opposed to sending me to a doctor who would just give me medications, so he gave me suggestions to help me concentrate. I didn't immediately accept his advice because for months, I wasn't convinced that I had ADD. I thought I could raise my grades on my own. This yielded no results, and my grades continued to fall. My frustration stayed bottled up inside, and I became more bad-tempered by the day.
My hardheaded personality eventually gave in to my desire to please my parents. I knew they were very disappointed in me, and when I had finally admitted to myself that I needed help, I tried some of the strategies that Mike suggested, like running and meditation. Exercise releases endorphins, which benefited me the most because it helped me to focus. He also told me that relaxation methods could help with my insomnia, and it became easier to fall asleep at night. Falling into these habits took a very long time, but eventually, my grades improved. I discovered my strengths and weaknesses when it came to subjects at school, and I took more time to study math and science, making a conscious effort to balance the inequities in my brain.
Not only does my ADD affect my studies, it affects every aspect of my life. For example, preparing for an equestrian event takes me twice as long as everyone else, because I am so easily distracted, but despite the challenges, I make it into the show ring and I always do well because I'm determined. I've nearly completed my Girl Scout Gold Award because I refused to give up, even when the projects became overwhelming. Even sitting down to fill out my college applications has been a challenge for me, yet I've done it because I'm stronger than my ADD. I have never used it as an excuse, and I never will. I will always push myself to do better, to be better, because that's what really empowers me. The bottom line is that I am who I am, and despite my many challenges, I'm proud of the person I'm becoming.
