In my mid-40s, my 7 year old was diagnosed with ADD. Then I began to see similarities in me, my family. I was so relieved to be able to have a reason for my struggles, similar to yours. Now 51, I’m questioning this leap of faith I had in a diagnosis. My son’s and my emotional and even physical behaviors are reflective of a threatening environment, past and present. Family or school weren’t able to admit or identify our pain. So neither could we. Now, after all your years of “treatment” and trying a million different ways to comply with the adults and peers, you are now expected to not only continue to submit but also somehow know how to be the master of your life, by yourself, without ever having the agency to choose your best version of you. Until now, perhaps? School, shmool.