Hello, my name is Laura, and based off of what my grades say about me- I’m destined to be a failure. Sometimes I can accept that but other times, it is kinda crushing. If you were to go into the abyss that is my school bag, you’d find several things that show the signs a failing fourth year pupil. First is a calendar of all tutoring schedules. This is a familiar piece of paper for anyone who is sailing their way through secondary school. If you get bad marks they always give you the same thing: tutoring schedules. And every time each tutoring schedule is the same. Mondays: Natures Chemistry at lunch. Starting at 12:05 and ending at 13:00. Tuesdays: after school, Spanish. 14:40-15:40. Wednesdays: after school, History, from 14:45-15:45. And on Thursdays I have microbiology to endure after school, from 14:05 to 15:05. Fridays: Spanish again, after school from 14:30 to 15:30. You can also find three “lost” house keys, and a few printouts, probably from second year. Last year I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. I actually did so bad on the A.D.D test, that I scored negatively. That basically makes me the Mick Jagger of horrible attention spans. In primary I was always getting sent out of class for distracting other kids, and I couldn’t explain to anyone why I was doing it. “Laura, why are you distracting other pupils?” ‘”Oh, I just love and need attention!” Yeah, not a good way to go. My number one pet peeve is when people describe me as ‘attention seeking’, I mean, it’s not false information, I am attention seeking- it’s literally called Attention Deficit Disorder. Even at that, why is seeking attention so bad anyway? Imagine nobody gave you any type of attention… Yeah, pretty boring. Mum is always shouting at me for leaving the cupboard doors and fridge open. It’s not like I mean it, and she knows that, but she’s finding it just as hard as I am. Not to mention the constant confusion I experience when walking into a room and forgetting what I needed, or the mess that builds up in my room. I try to tidy it, really, but it can take days, due to me getting distracted by everything. Another issue is reading. I think I’m reading a passage, but after a couple of minutes I realise that I did not take any of the information in. Even just talking to other people is hard. In the middle of a conversation I will usually just space out, thinking of what I’m having for dinner that night, homework I have due, what my mum is doing that moment, and before I know it I’ve lost track of the whole conversation. This in particular, is what really worries me. I don’t want to come across as rude, so I tend to just nod and smile while the other person speaks. If all of that isn’t stressful enough I have a tremendously tough time finishing essays, homework, tests, anything! I just can’t do it. Texting people back- I don’t know what that is. So, is there a cure? Yes, there indeed is. It comes in many different forms, and they all have the same negative affect on you. When it comes to A.D.D medication, I’ve been on several of them. Name any one and I’ve probably been on it. Vyvanse, different forms of Ritalin, Stattera, Concerta. Each time I’m on them I get the same questions: What’s wrong with you? Are you sad? Why aren’t you acting the same? Once my friend said that he wanted my medication to wear off so that I could be funny again. After being diagnosed it felt as if a weight was lifted off my shoulders, but all good things come to an end. I realised that I was going to have to find ways to control it. In that doctors office it was comforting to know that I’m not a bad kid, I’m not stupid, and I’m not lazy, and hearing about the medication that would be offered to me it sounded as if my life was going to completely transform. I’d be top of my classes, with finished work and I’d be so much more productive. Ha, no. That weight was flung right back onto me as if it had never left. I don’t know how else to explain the medication except from them being mental handcuffs. They take everything you like and make you hate it all, and they don’t replace any of your likes with any other likes, you just hate everything. So it all comes down to one simple, equation. That being, take the pills, less tutoring hours, sad Laura: happy Laura, no pills, more tutoring hours: less tutoring hours, more pills, sad Laura. Who would have thought that one little pillcould cause so much stress? So, by now there’s only one question: Pins or no pills? Well I could tell you which option I went for, or I could tell you this. My name is Laura, and I’m happy.