WiredTiredUnhired

I can't take my eyes off the date: March 13, 2019. It's the "2019" part that really hits hard. How the hell did life become this way for me? How have so many years slipped through my grip with virtually nothing meaningful to show for them? I was probably 18 years old when I took Adderall for the first time. That was back in 2008, over a decade ago. The year is 2019, my thirties are on the horizon, and I'm still popping outrageous amounts of those little orange fuckers every day. Even when I try to channel my mental resources into telling my story, I find it nearly impossible to make sense of what I've made of all this time. Virtually nothing of interesting or lasting significance has happened in my life.  Like many of us afflicted with this unfortunate obsession, I abuse a drug that casts the illusion in my mind that I've got life figured out. Under its influence, I feel like I have all the makings of a real live adult. Daily obstacles don't seem difficult because the chemicals acting on my brain mask the effort and discomfort normal people experience when they encounter something unfamiliar. Instead, the hard stuff that takes work feels effortless. This is the effect that, in my opinion, distinguishes an addiction to Adderall from other forms of substance abuse. Rather than a means to escape life, Adderall is like the elixir that transforms you into the person who wants nothing more than to participate in it. In fact, a better name for Adderall (or more specifically, its addictive appeal) would be imaginary confidence. Natural, healthy confidence is achieved in stages, through making mistakes and learning from them, by recognizing hardship, confronting it and ultimately developing the maturity to overcome it. And then doing it all over again. The reason I am an addict is because I discovered the artificial way out of that process. I never had to learn how to cope properly because I've spent years relying on a pill that does the coping for me. It holds your hand through adversity over and over and over, until you eventually realize that the "medicine" you've been using this whole time to help you become someone you like and respect is actually turning you into a broken, incomplete, helpless mutation of that "someone." And before you know it, ten years have vanished and you're still that frightened 18 year old kid who thought he needed a pill to fix him. But now, here in 2019, you're even more fearful than the person you started out. The scary stuff is still really, really scary. And all I want is the confidence Adderall gives me. I want it so badly that it hurts, even though I know the feeling is synthetic and fake. How do I escape the cycle? Where does a person my age with my lack of experience turn for confidence?