i am writing to you, to the person who taught you, to the people you thought to think like you and to everyone who agrees with you.

My depression adhd and anxiety is real. it affects my life and my body and everything i do. i don’t try to be rude when i don’t respond or i’m too loud or when i won’t stop moving. I’m not trying to make it seem normal to cut myself when people ask about my scars, i’m just sharing what the asked about. i’m not trying to ‘spread’ my illness to your child, nor you. I’m not a druggie, i need the medication to help my chemical imbalance. Depression is real. Adhd is real. Anxiety is real. When i pick my skin, don’t tell me to stop or tell me how disgusting it will look when it scars- because i can’t control it. when i leave the room because it is too overwhelming, don’t call me ‘anti-social’ and ‘lazy’ or ‘childish’ because i won’t stand for it. it’s real, it affects me, and you need to accept that