Currents Magazine Winter 2015

Focus.
The one word in the English language
that causes smoke to come out of my ears.
Even typing the word causes me angst.
Due to my attention deficit disorder, or
ADD, I struggle with focusing, which affects
my everyday life. Everything takes
me two times, three times or even ten
times longer than the average person.
And by everything, I mean everything.
From household chores to completing
homework assignments. It takes me up to
six hours to clean my dorm room, which
is a mess due to forgetting to carve out
time to clean. Frustration is an emotion
I am all too familiar with. A simple fivepage
paper can take up to 12 drafts to ensure
clarity and flow. I constantly forget
things. I forget to do assignments, where
I parked my car, if I ate breakfast or what
someone just said to me five seconds before.
Frustration.
Growing up with ADD led me to be
an angry person who was lost in her
own thoughts. The tangled web of my
thoughts get stuck into a bind of confusion
because my brain tries to process
everything at the speed of light. There is
a sense of guilt and anxiety when dealing
with others who don’t have ADD. Conversation
and social interactions can be
extremely difficult. I can look you right
in the face, give you eye contact and even
nod like I’m listening and not get a single
word you just said. Conversations go in
one ear and out the other. I always feel
like I’m being rude asking people to repeat
themselves.
Some people are not very patient and
take serious offense to my lack of attention.
What they do not understand is the
guilt I feel asking them to accommodate
this thing my brain does without my
control. I live with that constant guilt for
my learning disability causes anxiety and
worry.
My pediatrician first introduced the idea
of ADD to my parents when I was in
middle school. My mom wanted to try
more natural approaches to my ADD. I
took fish oils and a variety of vitamins.
Lactose milk and all dairy were removed
from my diet. I still struggled to put away
a basket of clean clothes in fewer than
four hours. Homework that was supposed
to be only two hours would take
seven hours. My typical day growing
up was wake up at 7 a.m., go to school,
participate in sports, come home, then
start homework immediately. It was always
me against the clock. I could handle
shooting a free throw that would decide
the basketball game better than I could
the hours of homework I was forced to
endure. I hated sitting at the kitchen table
doing work. I was under my mother’s
careful eye to make sure I focused (there’s
that word again). To this day, I cannot do
homework at a desk. It just brings back
memories of frustrations and tears. Yes, I
cried over homework.
I didn’t learn to read until third grade
due to my ADD. My teachers didn’t have
the time or energy to sit down with me
and force me to focus on the words. I
struggled with my own native language
English. It is embarrassing sometimes to
try to formulate a cohesive sentence in a
language I’ve spoken since the age of 3.
I had various tutors. I remember specifically
my writing tutor who was actually a
speech therapist. He created this booklet
about how to write a paper and organize
your ideas. He introduced me to the software
Inspiration, which is basically like
spider-webbing essay planning on your
computer. But that’s not all. I completed
the whole Hooked on Phonics program.
My mom forced me to read a chapter
from any book and write in my journal
every night. She always made sure to say
that she would never read my journal, but
merely flip through the pages to see that
I had written. I hated this with a burning
passion. I thought books were torture devices
meant to teach children to sit still
for long periods of time. I despised the
written word and everything associated
with it. I just wanted to watch TV and
be left alone.
After years of this punishment, I looked
back at some of my old journals. I noticed
a change, the sophistication of my writing
style. I was completely shocked. The
concept of progression was new to me. I
was used to trying so hard and straining
every last brain cell to just make it by. It
changed my view of language. I saw that
I had power. I possessed an ability to
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