“Will Adam Burak please come down to the main office?” was a message I heard over the loudspeaker dozens of times while in elementary school.
Still, it startled me and sent me into an anxious spiral. Heads turned, while stares of confusion and intrigue shook me to my core as I walked to the door.
I knew where I was going, but no one else did. It was time for occupational therapy, a time that I dreaded, not because OT was difficult or was not beneficial, but because I would have to lie to my friends and peers in class when they asked where I went.Read more on themighty.com