"A is for the Adderall I take. D is for the Depression that plagues. H is for my Hyperactive brain. D is for how Down-bad ADHD makes me."

I think something that many people don’t talk about is how ADHD can impact your life if you’re a teacher.

From my personal experience, it is AWFUL.

Leading by example? No, we don’t know her nor do we want to if you are a teacher and have ADHD.

I am someone that due to my ADHD, I find it difficult to stay on task. As a teacher, that is literally the objective and it is hard to keep a class of 20+ students on task when you can’t be the example.

Not only that, but I am also young and was a high school teacher so students found me relatable because I could understand them on a different level. I also attended the school I was teaching at and grew up in the are so they could relate and I understood.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved being a teacher and I was a damn good one but I was **_miserable._** I lived in a constant state of over stimulation and negative percentage on the social battery scale. I couldn’t enjoy the little time I had to myself because I was so drained.

My medication was also constantly being delayed because it is a controlled substance, so nothing was helping my case.

The kids I worked with were so sweet and I love and care for them a lot but sometimes it is hard to help others with their life problems when you have to pay a therapist to help you with yours. And most of these kids were going **_through it._**

At the end of the year, I couldn’t do it. I know this is gonna sound very stupid to many people but I love letters and I didn’t get a single one for teacher’s appreciation week and that really hurt my feelings. Mind you, I did a lot for these kids.

For example:

- Hosted a culture night and made them make every decoration like it is done in Mexico to help them feel closer to their roots because many have never been to the motherland.

- I made them Carne Asada, which I was voluntold to make and it was 95 degrees outside. I literally got sunburnt because I am super white and I burn easy.

- I stayed afterschool to listen to them vent.

- I answered most of their emails afterschool hours even though most of the time it wasn’t about homework, they just needed someone to listen to them.

- I helped fix my student’s hair after she had a breakdown and cut her hair too short on one side.

- I kept a sewing kit in my class because someone always had a wardrobe malfunction.

It wasn’t just the kids that made me feel this way though, it was also the admin. The first year I taught there I had so many problems with one teacher that didn’t understand that while we taught at a high school, we were not high schoolers. Like this woman was always going to the principal with the stupidest shit. The principal even told me she thought it was bullshit and she was just immature but that I should beware. I didn’t care though, I refused to engage or acknowledge her behavior which I feel pissed her off even more. I truly think she felt threatened because I was younger and talented and the principal loved me.

All that being said, when awards season came around I did not receive a single one and that hurt because I busted my ass. She was hardly ever in class, or work, didn’t actually teach, and would involve herself in everyone’s business. Students words not just mine.

Guess what award she got?

The award for hardest worker.

I was livid.

It was popularity based though and since she treated people like she was a queen bee, she won. She did not have that control over me and two of my other coworkers though and that drove her crazy, so she made our lives hell.

This past year, they completely scrapped awards and I was upset because I know I deserved one.

I was the only one of my kind of teacher because I was the ESL and English Lit teacher for Freshmen and Sophomores. I had no prep period and yet all of my things were always done.

Imagine having to wake up everyday to go talk at people (yes, at not to) about something you love for 8 hours a day and them constantly asking you why they have to know this or that they don’t care. Most of them failing too because that is how much they don’t care and them calling you a bitch because you won’t give them an extension on an art project they had over a month to do and all the class time for that month was work time.

Like, am I a bitch?

100%.

Was I a bitch for holding them accountable?

No.

So, I lost sight of the point. Students didn’t care about what I was teaching and when you’re passionate about something and try to share it and no one gives a fuck, it hurts like hell.

I deserved the recognition. I craved it after such a hard year. It was the validation I needed to keep teaching.

On the second to last day, something the admin had said to me had been the last straw and I kept ruminating it until the next morning. I was exhausted, overstimulated, and drained. Thinking about doing it again in the fall was a dreadful and terrifying thought.

So, I pulled up my resignation letter and handed it in.

Being a teacher who has a mental illness is not for everyone and it wasn’t for me. I could not deal with it. I spent half of the year in a deep depression and it felt harder to climb out of the hole every time.

I understood then that the next time I ended up in that state that I don’t know if I could pull myself out.

Right now, I am a freelance copy editor and my human interaction levels are low so I am thriving. My social battery is mostly full and I am a sub for the school as well and I pick up little jobs here and there.

I have time to enjoy my hobbies and heal in peace.

Am I more poor than before?

Yes, but I am full of hope and happiness again.