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You write and write on your memoir, and everything you think of reminds you of something else that doesn’t fit just here, but you don’t know what to do with it. Monkey mind! you think. Adult ADHD, perhaps. How on earth am I ever going to sort this all out and make... This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.Accept Read More Privacy & Cookies Policy