So I go into therapy, as usual, and I'm talking to my therapist and she's concerned about why my anxiety is only getting worse. And she starts asking me about my school life and my grades and my home life and I was honest with her: I'm very unorganized. She then proceeded to ask me how much I knew about ADD. I told her not much. So she had me talk more about the kinds of behavioral things/ mood swings I go through and the way my life is and she diagnosed me with ADD today. She then told me that there were 7 different kinds of ADD and that she was sending me to the doctor who specializes in ADD patients to find out specifically which kind I have. She also said that my anxiety, though it may be a side effect of the ADD, may also just be anxiety and since it was worsening and worsening and there was no real progress being made, she called my mother in and explained to her the situation. She explained to my mother that the only way to get me healthy and get me on track to a better lifestyle right now would to be to medicate me. And my mom was very anal about it at first but then she gave it, realizing this was the only way I was going to get better. So in the next few weeks I'm going to be going to the doctors a lot to get my medicines worked out; my medications have to cooperate with each other. I know I've been a handful and I'm awful and mean and crude but these past few months have been a lot and there is no way I would still be breathing without Hunter and Laura and Brandy and Victoria and anyone else who has helped me through these months. I know I give you a hard time and I act like I don't care lot but at the end of the day I love you more than I love myself and I wouldn't be anything without you. So what I'm trying to say is,
