“Heather,” Ms. Wittune’s shrill voice pierced through the serenity of my daydream, washing it away. “Are you paying attention?”

I wasn’t.

“I do wish you would just try a little, Heather.”

But I was trying.

Ms. Wittune was my third grade teacher. She was the first to struggle with keeping my attention, but she was not the only. Teacher upon teacher grew frustrated with my “lack of effort.” I tried to pay attention—but the allure of daydreams was too much to resist. But, I digress.

On the outside, my situation read like the classic case of laziness. I appeared to be an intelligent student, who would excel—if she would just put forth the effort. However, I was really an intelligent student, who—despite my best efforts—couldn’t focus. I was not lazy. I was hazy.
This pattern continued for eight more years. Then the summer before my junior year the cause was discovered. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder was the source of my chaos. And once diagnosed—and with the help of daily planners, itemized checklists, and chunking daunting tasks into smaller ones—the fog cleared. I was able to excel.

I know better than to hang my head in defeat—to declare ADHD as a death sentence of perpetual haziness. There will be obstacles, but I am equipped to conquer them.

Now I see through the haze. I see the world as serene as any daydream. And I have found something sweeter than any story my mind can create—accomplishment.