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.