Life a Few Milligrams at a Time

This morning, awesome. Woke up and did nothing. Well, ate way to much Cap’n Crunch right out of the box. Cuddle a bit with Dan in the good homo cuddling way. Took my meds, started with 30mg of Adderall. 

The house is spotless. Mild Hypomania I assume. Although, morning often start with 45 mg, I take three 15 mg pills each half hour, waiting for it to work. 

Started feeling a bit down a few hours later, became much more aware of my mood, a few thought of death popped into my head. To solve the problem I took 45 mg, just 30 mg at first but that didn’t solve the problem.

This evening, God, I took too much, like always. I could feel the crash lurking. Suicidal thoughts started becoming more intense, at seven I took an extra 7.5 mg, half an hour late, 15 mg and another 7.5 mg forty minutes after that. 

I had to stop there, or give up on sleeping tonight. The crash waited another hour. By nine I felt it again, worried about my mood, suicidal thoughts popped up in my head. Opened a beer, took 50 mg of trazadone. Everything solved.

Yeah, I wish. Nothing solved. Slightly more calm but still awful. Dying sounds nice. Make it stop. Now I am laying on the bed, I still often fight it, tonight I gave in after an hour. Incapable and pathetic. Make it stop.

Adderall often causes a crash as it winds down. But during the day, at work and such, it can be a god send. Dispar turns into focus and engaged, the depressive thoughts are almost gone, I can focus on what I please.

The negatives are more and more obvious. I usually do increase the dose throughout the day, to avoid coming down, I’m terrified of a crash. Night is always a struggle as my body process through my last dose.

Problem, yes? Solution? No fucking idea. Yes, Adderall often causes severe depressive episodes, yet it also ends them. The idea of stopping Adderall, ending it cold turkey is god damn terrifying. I am confident I am not actually suicidal. I relish the idea though. Adderall is the one tool I have that is often affective against my twisted thoughts. Days without it our days of suicidal thoughts, constantly, and paralyzing apathy. Nothing and no one, I don’t care about anything on those days.

Adderall must end eventually. But without something else, without a tool to mitigate the damage its absence will cause, I wonder if I’ll make it through. I wonder what will be left of me if I do.

A few weeks or a month focusing intently on planning and visualizing my suicide will reek havoc on my mind. And I’ve always crashed, I am not entirely clear how it would change without Adderal.

Oh, yes. Trapped, hopeless, anxious, scared, disappointed, guilty, worthless, worry… A life like mine? Perfect. Don’t worry be happy. Die. Die. Die. 

Life a Few Milligrams at a Time

the anxiety of happiness


Yesterday started rough. I needed to clear everything out of my old office and get settled in the new much more isolated one. Taking down pictures, it killed me.

I’ve been planning on pushing down my doses of Adderall, but it is so hard for me. Choose the day you would like to intensely concentrate on killing yourself, thanks.

Anyways, yesterday was one of those days. However, I said fuck it. I took a bit more, got up to 45 mg and certainly didn’t feel happy. But I wasn’t overwhelmed with each step. My mind gets into these loops, I preservative, always about the worst possible causes or outcomes. I am asked to move because I am disposable. And the thought was overwhelming and constant. Adderall doesn’t quiet my mind, but it allows me to focus on the outside world even if my head is chaos.

Yesterday Adderall helped, a lot. And yet, just a week ago I blogged saying it was poison. I wonder the true impact of these medications. I so desperately want to find the cause, to solve it. Rationally, I am fully aware that is not how it will work, but my mind, my mind still scrambles to fix it.

Regardless, the past couple days have been okay to good. And that is god damn incredible.

Last night, a fucking nightmare. Apparently three or four days ago I ran out of Effexor XR (Venlafaxine), didn’t even notice it. Last night I threw up nine times. Brain zaps occurred in waves and were at most a minute apart. I felt like I was about to shit my pants for a solid nine hours. Shivering, sweating, crying – it was a good time for all.

Today I’ve been good, not okay, but good. I write less when I am doing well, I just don’t think about my mood as much. In the depths of my lows I know it will never end. Good days, like today, I dread going to bed. What if I don’t get this tomorrow? I am probably having a good day because my body is relieved to have Effexor again.

Regardless, as I lay down tonight anxiety will set in, who will I be tomorrow? I’ll wonder if I get another day as that kind calm person I used to know. I like him. I miss him so.



the anxiety of happiness

drug addict faggot die

CaptureYesterday, awful. Worst crash I’ve had in a while. Not only did I get to think about putting a gun in my mouth and ending my piece of shit self, I also toyed with the idea of hanging my fat ass. You know, just to spice things up.

I’ve been reassigned to a new office at work. This office is pretty isolated. You know what is fun? Hiding at work and crying because you are a fucking faggot. Good crying, the type of crying where you sit on the floor and your tears mix with your snot and end up in a long string clinging to the carpet.

Below is the data from the Google Form I use to keep track of mood. Below that is an hour by hour breakdown of how much Adderall in my system. Just to highlight to myself that I am a piece of shit drug addict fuck.

The amount is all Adderall. The amount I took? Horrifying. Disgusting. But, I just wanted to make it stop. Just make it stop. Today I took off. Because I am weak bitch and would have fucking lost it moving all my shit to the new office.

Greatest hits, the stuff I say to just fucking destroy me, are bolded.

Fun times.

spread total

*Siri wrote a shit ton of this, also I’m better with numbers then letters

Time Amount Comment Mood Energy Head Focus
2/24/16 6:30AM 15
2/24/16 7:01AM 15
2/24/16 7:46AM 7.5
2/24/16 8:36AM 7.5
2/24/16 9:10AM 15
2/24/16 9:25AM Been doing good and then of course I allowed a gap i guess, i feel guilty about taking so much. I am still good but i can already feel it, already worried about my mood. i hate me.
2/24/16 10:11AM 7.5 Doing fine, just scared. I don’t want gaps. I’d love a day of not thinking and hoping for my own death. 3 3 4 5
2/24/16 10:16AM 7.5 did i put this in a minute ago??
2/24/16 11:45AM And I am thinking about pills again. I am not aiming for any high, I just hate thinking about killing myself. I do it so often now. Did pills cause this? I don’t know. Maybe. But the pills no just provide me relief.
2/24/16 11:45AM 5 4 3 3
2/24/16 12:10PM 7.5 17 minutes ago, like always fucking guilty but it is so fucking awful without. Fuck.
2/24/16 1:23PM 7.5 Last bit of pill I have with me. I bet I’m a wreck at 3:30, or is it something. Or is that in my head? Probably. Fuck you 4 4 3 3
2/24/16 2:16PM Already thinking of meds. Feeling okay but fucking scared that if bad happens I’m on my own
2/24/16 2:41PM Already fighting the desire to end. Is this real? Is this something I am triggering out of fear of not having any left. I am not sure why. It doesnt feel like something I am doing. Maybe it is caused because even a slight drop causes depression,
my body demands more. But, I dont know. I used to feel like this. It just seems to have increased. I guess I would try to fight it more. And often fail. Now that I know I shouldnt have to bear this, that this isnt normal, it is just exhausting.
I need it gone. Or I will want myself gone. Sigh.
2/24/16 2:48PM I was just told I do need to move offices. I am going to be so isolated over in the new office. I walked it, it is a tenth of a mile from all others in my department. It is going to be so much easier to hide when I am sad. To be alone. To concentrate
on fucking killing myself. I am now sitting in an empty office crying and hiding. Fuck. Fuck you.
2/24/16 2:56PM I am just sitting here and crying. Yeah, I am a fucking adult. Jesus. Fuck. I hate this. I hate me
2/24/16 4:25PM After most people left work I well I don’t start to feel better. I just started moving my shit. It’s always reassuring to know your disposable. And I was so pathetic with my bosses I told them how I would kind of killed me. I wish I made enough
of a contribution that they weren’t OK moving me. I’m good at what I do. I work goddamn hard. I love every minute of it. My reviews are always very good. Which I guess is why they were OK just moving me, because I’m a team player. I wonder how
often I will just want to shoot myself in the face hiding over there. I’m still OK just now but I’m scared. Or maybe I’m not my
2/24/16 4:27PM My mood has stabilized. Someone. I am still very aware, we can all right? I’m already thinking 90 mg. And when I get home I’m going to make more. I’m a piece of shit drug attic who scared to nine and I don’t MI scared or do I just want more goddamn
drugs now I’m working myself up about this I could probably be fine tonight but what if I’m not. And I’d like to do things and not just fucking hate myself and I’ll think about it And now I’m probably just being dramatic and saying the shit so
I can justify that I’m a goddamn drug attic. But on the meds I just don’t think about fucking killing myself.
2/24/16 4:38PM I think my mood would be stable if I stopped attacking myself. I don’t know if I I don’t know. I don’t attack myself like this on meds. But maybe if I stop trying or did it finally I would stay stable I just keep thinking about terrible shit. Why
I’m fucking worthless. I’m a goddamn drug attic. Shitty health insurance stuff that I’m wasting so much goddamn money because I’m fucking crazy and all the stupid fucking doctors if I was fucking crazy Dan I could go on vacation or I would have
more money to give to I don’t know already lost in our Planned Parenthood a group much more deserving than my pathetic shitty mind. And I’m probably still being dramatic to try to justify that I’m a goddamn drug addict fuck me
2/24/16 4:48PM Yeah it’s kind of back. But am I doing this cause I want to excuse to take the pill? I don’t think so I don’t think I’m trying to make this happen it’s just when I am nothing in my mind is idol if it’s a terrible shit it just goes to all the bad
fucking hates me. And I don’t get it am I supposed to fight this I can’t fight all the time I can’t always be on guard sometimes I’m not and then I just fucking destroy myself. I know all my insecurities on my weaknesses all the bad shit about
me and I use all of those to confirm the worthlessness of my existence and why she just fucking die. I’m not having suicidal thoughts right now but I’m thinking about stuff in your follows suicidal thoughts probably two hours later but maybe I
get out of it maybe I wouldn’t have this thought just taking drugs and skipping them but I don’t want to have a bike I probably would but I mean fuck you fuck you drug attic
2/24/16 5:10PM 7.5 30 mg 19 minutes ago. just took another 7.5 because i am a piece of shit. my mind keeping wanting to focus on how god damn fucking worthless is. fuck. jesus christ. what the fuck
2/24/16 5:47PM 15 Yep another 7.5. I’m more in my head again. Dan is going to be home in a bit and it’s fucking embarrassing that I’m always a fucking disaster. Could I maybe stop this on my own I don’t know how I don’t end up if I’m supposed to I’m not showing up
and I fucking hate that I’m a fucking drug attic fuck and then be another goddamn homeless bipolar person with a drug addiction. Fuck. I hope I have the guts to fucking shoot myself before that happens. Fucking kill yourself you piece of shit.
Fucking do it. Fuck you. I just fucking fucking fucking hate you. This is why you don’t have friends, you yourself can’t even stand you.
2/24/16 5:49PM The worst part of all of this I know exactly what to say to make me want to fucking die. I know themselves can actually kill me. All of my worst fears I could attack. T The worst part of all of this I know exactly what to say to make me want to
fucking die. I know themselves can actually kill me. All of my worst fears I could attack. Cry you fucking faggot. Fuck. You fucking bitch. I fucking hate you.
2/24/16 5:50PM 7.5 I’m not to be fucking terrible tonight. Went to see Dan doesn’t deserve that, but really it. The weird thing is is when I stop talking into my phone I can push it out of my head but it sits there waiting waiting for the second that I get week or
I stop pushing fucking eats me fucking alive. Because I am a piece of shit
2/24/16 5:55PM I am god damn terrified that this is all me. I am supposed to fight this more. I guess i probably can. but fuck. what if i cant? what then? bang.
2/24/16 6:38PM 7.5 another 7.5, dan is home.
2/24/16 7:17PM 15 actually 23.5. You know why? Because i am in my god damn shitty fucking head again. all i do is focus on how god damn terrible i am. i am such a fucking cunt. fuck fuck 2 2 2 2
2/24/16 7:26PM please god. hurry. i am fighting the thoughts already constantly they pop up to attack, well every minute or so. You know, like fuck you. DIE. DIE. just the fun stuff
2/24/16 7:38PM working now. thank zues
2/24/16 8:08PM fuck and i am going down. fuck you dude. fuck. i am going to take a bit more, then buy beer to keep me not thinking for one god damn night. ive dained weight from all the beer because i want to be a fat piece of shit for dan. i had a six-pack once.
fuck. oh well, not like i can have sex without a god damn panic attack. he stays out of pity. fuck you. die
2/24/16 8:15PM 15 15 mg more. because i am a piece of shit drug addict and dont want to think about blowing my piece of shit head off because i am fucking worthless. instead, i am going to use this time to attempt to help my bosses with a spreadsheet. i know how
to rock a macro and it will save them a ton of time. maybe then they will pretend like i have some god damn value because fuck knows i already am well aware of my shitty fucking pointless fucking fuck life
2/24/16 8:20PM i wish my fucking bosses could get how fucking pathetic i am and how much this will fucking continue to destroy me. constantly reminded i am way far away because i am a team player and fucking god damn disposable. i constantly do useful shit at
work for all. i love work. it is the only thing that gives me a tanigable validation of my worth. and that is fucking fuck pathetic but true. fuck you guys. I wish you understood what a disaster i was. i can’t even hide and cry because tomorrow
there will be people around my office all day for a variety of reasons, none for me. so i don’t know how to make it. maybe if they knew this would eat me alive for god damn months they woudl fucking feel bad. maybe i should hang my fat fuck body
in the god daMn office. fuck you .
2/24/16 8:25PM make it stop. start working. i want to not remember how fucking worthless i am for just a little longer. fuck you. die. fuck i fucking hate you drug addict week faggot idiot awkward stupid fuck fuck fuck
2/24/16 8:32PM still not working. sitting next to dan on our computers and i am trying not to give him another night of his pathetic self consumed boyfriend being so god damn worthless. he so kind and support, he deserves better then fucking fuck me
2/24/16 8:39PM Fuck. Why aren’t they stopping. I probably did this. Maybe the crash would be over if I wasn’t a god damn drug addict
2/24/16 8:41PM This is selfish but the worst part is doing this alone. Like, Dan doesn’t really get it. No one does. Oh, depression? I’m so sorry, my nana went through that when her cat died. Oh? What fun did she visualize blowing the back of her head off with?
A revolver sounds interesting but maybe a shoot gun, kurt conbain style for maximum splatter affect
2/24/16 8:42PM 15 Died faggot
2/24/16 8:56PM congrads drug addict. freedom for an hour or whatever and then you drink you fat fuck fuck fuck
2/24/16 8:58PM maybe not i still feel it alitte, probably because i am absolutely terrified of it and so consious of is it here? is it here? and constantly do a mental check if the suicidal thoughts of taken back their home in my head
2/24/16 9:00PM yep. def still here. i am about to give up on you or me or whatever you crazy fuck
2/24/16 9:02PM i thiink fighting makes it worse. how do you fight your thoughts, i just think about dying more when i try not to. maybe if i was fighting stronger or different or i dont know
2/24/16 9:10PM is it over? or are the drugs working? i dont think it is drugs. i think it is gone right now. of course my fat ass will still probably get beer. dont want to be defenseless against myself
2/24/16 9:20PM Oops. Never mind, happiness was fleeting, apparently I was excited about the tiny amount of progress I had just made on PC maintenance. Yay ridiculously low standards because you’re not a function fucking human. Yeah back to sad.
2/24/16 9:26PM Yep. Still shitty. I knew this move might happen. I begged and pointed out the benefits of me closer. I fucking cried in my bosses office. Christ. I just told them, I am really good at isolating myself and have been struggling with depression, it
will be easier to hide and stop functioning. And it will. And yet they did it because fuck me. Disposable. I knew it would cause this crash, also part of my fear. God. How long will it last? Probably every day it comes back as I walk through that
door and am reminded no one gives a fuck. Dan does, but at this point pity. I am always awful. He has so much to offer. Him dating me is like fucking community service. Fuck. Duck fuck. Well, I am waking to get beer, it will never be enough to
stop this but fuck
2/24/16 9:29PM I wish my bosses could feel this, feel what they caused or my fucking weak head caused. Fuck. Kill yourself.
2/24/16 9:35PM I’m trying to convince myself my thoughts aren’t true. I place an immense value on truth, probably because I lied about everything I was until coming out at 23. I’m like, maybe they put you there because they knew you could handle it. And they did.
But I told them in no uncertain terms how scary it was for me. And they still did it. Because fuck me
2/24/16 9:47PM Poorer two shots, only took one. I need the second but I am a pussy and don’t really love hard liquor. I hid the other, maybe take it later but don’t want Dan to know. He is always nice and gets it but I know part of him is disappointed. He deserves
more. Now drinking a beer. So, 90 cal shot and 200 cal beer and yeah. I have stopped running all I do is think when running. I think what a fucking shit I am. I’ve gained 30lbs in the last 6 months. I’ve always been fit, weighed the same for 16
on, well until 6 months ago. Gays are hash. So, not only am I depressive pathetic stupid fucking faggot, I am god damn fat and disgusting too. I have nothing to offer Dan. He says we will never own guns. Good. But yeah
2/24/16 10:00PM Meds are probably wearing off, or how much of a piece of shit i am is overwhelming. it is all still there. all the fucking hate. but i am just trying to work. like, i guess it will just sit there. and i can enjoy life with an overwhelming amount
self hatred. die you weak fuck. die.
2/24/16 10:26PM I think it is calming down. Or my body is just tired. It is still there but I don’t know. Sleeping pills time
2/24/16 10:36PM I have avoided it all night. But I just brought it up to Dan. Probably gonna talk about it when we lay down in a few. And I shouldn’t have. I’m doing okayish right now. Mostly. Haven’t thought of dying in 20 minutes
2/24/16 10:42PM And yet here I stand desperately still fighting my thoughts, even fighting my fear of those thoughts, doing all that while trying to chug my bear so I can go to bed. Beer won’t even do much, taking sleeping pills any. But it might help? Or I am
on my way a drunk drug addict. Sleeping pills have the real power. Well, and a gun. Fuck. I am probably just being dramatic. Fuck me
2/24/16 10:48PM I think I can stop thinking about it if I have something to do, my mind and body are damn tired. Probably from the last 8 hours of fighting myself. But yeah. Why am I not always strong enough to move on? And what if I don’t now. God. I bet my pathetic
ass still brings it up to Dan and throws a pity party
2/24/16 10:53PM Peeing before bed. I bet you cry like a bitch. Maybe not. Maybe I’ll pretend to be strong for once in my god damn life. But fuck – I hate you either way.

hour by hour breakdown of how much Adderall in my system


drug addict faggot die

Wanna see a shit show?

Today has been difficult. Testing out less Adderall, just 60mg. Disaster. Shit show.

I use a Google Form to track meds. Drop down list to pick the pill, place for dosage size, time stamped and sometimes I log my mood, energy, how much I am in my head and focus. Instead of throwing another pity/bitching/pathetic party here — gonna use the back catalog.

Below is my log of the two days before being diagnosed Bipolar. Yeah. Shit show.  

Total of that disaster? Well, 160mg. Oh, and at 10:30pm, when I get giddy, hypomanic. I didn’t know it then but yeah. Drug addict. Fuck. Die.

10 pictureTotal is 127.5. Still, shit show.

Good thing the next day I was diagnosed Bipolar, put on Lamictal and since it has been six-weeks, everything is solved. Now I am going to go drink or imagine the blood stain on my ceiling if I was capable of blowing my brains out.

Fuck me. I probably just do this shit for attention. Fuck. I am not going to fucking kill myself. I just wish so much I had the balls. Fuck.

Happy Tuesday!

Wanna see a shit show?

Took another pill

This morning started with a wonderful Lamictal. It used to only last me twelve hours, but as it has built up, The length of calm it provides has grown. 

Having not taken my full prescription of Adderall today, due to running out, I took my second dose at 6:10, right after therapy. I had felt good on my last dose. Lamictal helps to take away the bad, I thought. And

Started working on a few tasks but by 8:30, frustration set in. Decided to take a break, not even noticing the time. First plan, walk over to the conscience store and get some beer. I haven’t been drinking nightly like I used to, I don’t want beer in the house. Decided to take a warm bath. Yeah, I’m a homo. Not candles or shit, just a bath. Hadn’t shaved in a few days, beard/scruff needed to go. The tub wasn’t relaxing. Decided to skip shaving, seemed like so much work.

Got out of the tub after just fifteen minutes or so. Began debating my mood. You feel down; are you down? Why would you be, you’re not sad. You haven’t thought about killing yourself, but you just did. 

Is this Adderrall wearing of from a few hours ago? No, I bet it is Lamictal, it’s been about twelve. Or am I just upset because of paying those medical bills, maybe I am normal sad. Or is this…. Fuck. 

When life is good, stable, you know what I and normal people don’t do? Wonder what their mood is. During the first twelve hours of Lamictal, my mood is not a thought. It is not something I fear. I just live.

I start wondering if I am sad, wondering where my mood is taking me, something is already off. The best days are when I don’t fear my mood, I’m too busy living.

Mood. Fuck you.

Took another pill

Which me is me?

640px-dr_jekyll_and_mr_hyde_poster_edit2This morning I woke up to a fourth of my normal Adderall dose. Prescription far too quickly. But for so long, it has been the only tool I have had between planning my suicide, or not. And it is a blunt and shitty tool.

Thankfully, over the past week Lamictal has become more noticeable, I am three days shy of six-weeks. Coming down from Adderall is always a disaster, heavy drinking became the solution to that problem. Two years ago I drank once or twice a month, not anymore. Now that Lamictal has built up in my body, coming off Adderall lost its terror.

Instead, the decent from Adderall leaves me calm, even relaxed, and a bit tired. It is nice. It is also easier to see Adderall’s awful side effects. And this article, god, me, this is exactly me:

After (people with Bipolar disorder) taking the drug chronically, rather than feeling happy while under the influence, patients report that they instead feel surly and paranoid while high.

Paranoid, yes. Surly yes. And panic inducing. As I swore in my last post, Adderall was poison and I was done. Well, now I am not so sure. Haha.

Adderall is bad. And can be terrible. I didn’t take a normal dose until 2pm today. Nothing really worried me. Doctor appointment ran late, called out for the rest of the day. Dropped off my prescription and headed home for an hour. I’d get the pills, eventually, but home sounded nice. As apposed to my normal routine of handing the prescription, asking them to get it ready as quickly as possible, then pacing back and forth in front of the counter until they call my name.

So, yeah, this morning was nice. I didn’t exactly get much done. Or anything, but I didn’t care to. Now on a dose of Adderall, the energy and focus is nice. There is no anxiety, not like it was producing, just a bit of a bump into productivity. I’m definitely not hypomanic, again, still very calm. But calm with an ability to focus and accomplish tasks.

Now what? Which me is me? I like this me, but is it the me doctors will let me have? Or am I to be the calm sedatited unproductive me? That is still incredible compared to the me who only thinks of suicide. Or are there even more version of me? Each pill probably giving a slightly end result.

I missed my first appointment with the new psychiatrist, an expert on adults with ADHD and Major Depressive Disorder and Bipolar — an expert on me. My first appointment is now a week or so off. I wonder, which me will she allow me to be?

Are any of them me?


Which me is me?

Adderall a Love Letter

Four years ago a friend gave me an Adderall pill for a long drive. I said no, but it ended up in my pocket. 

Adderall changed everything. Productive. Focused. Clear. And, no crashing. No sadness. I always wanted more. Always.

Eurphoria did occur, but wasn’t my end goal. I enjoyed the swell of confidence and the ablity to completely dedicate my mind to any task. Power. I felt powerful. I felt manic.

A pill that took me from somewhat shy, socially awkward, depressive fag to brash stud. Well, at least in my mind. Yeah. I always wanted more.

One month and nine days ago my world changed. A doctor mentioned she suspected I’m Bipolar. The first hit on Google confirmed her suspicion for me. The next four hours I read everything I could find, shocked that the strangers writing these articles could know me so well. 

This article I hate. I ignored it. Problem solved. Nope. Not solved.

Many bipolar patients report that they feel exuberant, creative and undefeatable when they experience manic periods, and some even stop taking medication that helps them balance their moods in favor of experiencing these highs even though they come with extreme lows as well.

It’s also not uncommon for a bipolar disorder patient to seek to achieve these feelings of mania through artificial means, taking stimulant drugs like cocaine, crack and crystal meth that provide similar feelings.

Unfortunately, the result is usually a dependence upon the stimulant as well as a change to the drugs’ effects. After taking the drug chronically, rather than feeling happy while under the influence, patients report that they instead feel surly and paranoid while high.

God. but it does help sometimes. It enabled me to… Well, what about when I need to… Yeah, but waking up and…

Harm me. Most depressive thoughts? Adderall, usually as it leaves my system. Sometimes in the middle of smaller doses. Crashes become so intense, my mind dedicates all of its resources to depression, to destroying me. And I know this. But if I take another pill at two hours maybe I can skip that.

The first two hours of a dose, perfection. Well, usually not. But if I take another half dose thirty minutes after the first and a quarter dose thirty minutes after that and a half dose forty-five minutes later, boom. Perfection. For an hour. Or two. Or twenty minutes. Then more and more and more. 

It ain’t over yet. And it will be hell. But to the strangers who read this pathetic blog, I love Adderall, it freed me, imprisoned me. And now I know, it’s over.

Sure, the relationship will drag on. No set end date. But in my heart it is already done. The rest will follow.

Christ. I’m going to take so many naps.

Article: Bipolar and Addiction

Adderall a Love Letter