You did it. You spent hours researching, found a therapist who seemed perfect, and made the vulnerable, high-executive-function call. The conversation was great. You felt seen. You allowed a flicker of hope to ignite for the first time in months.

And then came the final, soul-crushing sentence, delivered with a polite, practiced calm: "Our next available new patient appointment is in eight months."

The hope instantly curdles into a familiar, bitter cocktail of disappointment and rage. It feels like a bait-and-switch. It feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke. How are you supposed to hold onto this fragile, hard-won momentum for the better part of a year?

The honest answer is, you can't. And you shouldn't have to.

The Waitlist is a Support Cliff

The research names exactly what's happening to you: post-diagnosis, individuals are often abandoned at a "support cliff," given a label with no guidance, and handed a "useless," pathologizing report, leading to a period of intense burnout. The waitlist IS the support cliff. You did the hardest part — you asked for help — and the system responded by pushing you off a cliff and telling you to hang on for eight months.

The mental health industry has normalized this absurdity. Practices have begun to wear their obscene waitlists like a badge of honor, a twisted status symbol to prove they are "in demand." It is a culture that prioritizes the provider's convenience and prestige over the client's acute, present-tense need.

"Telling someone who is brave enough to ask for help that they have to wait a year is not a logistical problem. It is a profound act of disrespect."

Why the Wait Extinguishes the Momentum

And the neuroscience explains why the waitlist is clinically destructive: ADHD is an Executive Function Disorder, not a Behavior Disorder. For a brain with executive function differences, "wait eight months" isn't just disappointing — it's a task that requires sustained temporal processing, future-oriented planning, and momentum maintenance. The exact functions that are already impaired. The wait doesn't just test your patience; it attacks the very capacity you needed to make the call in the first place.

And narrative worldviews help patients contextualize their trauma within larger systemic issues, reducing individual shame. If you're beating yourself up for "giving up" during the wait — stop. The system was designed in a way that makes giving up the predictable, neurological outcome. That's not your failure. That's their design failure.

Let's be absolutely clear: A long waitlist is not a sign that a practice is popular; it is a sign that their system is broken.

Our Rebellion: No Waitlist

"We don't have a waitlist. We believe that if you are ready for help now, you deserve to get it now."

Our entire scheduling model is an act of rebellion against this broken system. We only accept new clients when we actually have the capacity to see them within a reasonable timeframe (typically 1-2 weeks). It's not magic. It's just basic, ethical project management — respecting you, your time, and your momentum enough to be honest and transparent from the very first call.

You do not have to accept the waitlist as normal. Your readiness to start is a precious, finite resource. When you're ready to partner with a practice that respects your momentum: Check our real-time availability →


Part of: Getting Started → | Related: Our Fit Manifesto · The Vibe Check