New thread, same goal

[in sterquiliniis invenitur]

It's been a month (or two? or three?) since I posted last and... the reason why is... absurdly clear. 

Time vortex. Adderall makes your perception of time in such a way that... 4 hours can feel like a half-second and 24 hours at the same time. And for a better analogy... 1 week can feel like a couple hours and a month at the same time. 

And so you forget all the interpersonal relationships and social structures you're nested in... and react neurotically to them... because it's almost like the fact of the existence of your family reminds you that your 1 or 2 days of frenzied passion actually wasn't a full month of progress; it was just this tiny blip of intellect which you now have to pay for with all sorts of regret and rationalization. 

Well, let's see. What have I done? I graduated (with... get this... C's and D's; just sayin'). I have worked at my fast-food-type job for I don't know how long (I don't keep count and I hardly spend the money I earn; I just love to escape into a predictably industrious environment). I scribbled tons of notes on directionless projects that evaporated almost as quickly as I made the decision to start pursuing them (god, that's a long-winded sentence isn't it). I escaped into all sorts of self-help philosophies and doctrines to try and justify my Adderall state-of-mind with the fact of my morally righteous pursuit of effective modes of being. 

And I have made attempts to quit... 3 times... for 2-days each. Today is Day 1 of the 4th attempt. 

See, one of the things I'm scared of (perpetually so) is... the fact that... my parents are not industrious. And, by default, I am not industrious either (hence, the prescription for Adderall; I rationally justify it with "building neuro-plasticity that allows me to -- over the long-term -- feel a greater sense of urgency to do any given work").

But, I am, I guess, "orderly". Though I can get very sporadic and lateral in my thinking... I berate myself whenever I veer too far from a predictable routine. Whether or not I'm on meds I love to wake up early... and immediately hop into a cold shower... and immediately go work out for 90-120 minutes... and then immediately get into comfortable black-and-white clothing... and walk to the nearest coffee shop... and lay out my notebook and my laptop and cup of coffee.. and rip right into the nearest interesting or relevant thing to study. 

But the problem with all that is... by default... I often just don't do anything of value! I just sit there and hand-copy ideas from a textbook or article. And then occasionally write something original for 20 seconds and collapse from exhaustion... and then berate myself for that... and then get embarrassed. 

Hence, the compulsion (eternal compulsion) for Adderall. 

God, what an idiot I can be! 

Look at me go, blaming my parents' lack of favorable/inspiring temperamental traits for my own lack of those traits. 

OK, well, the ranting does me good sometimes. I like this forum because... it's full of people who are kinda just like me: you guys seem to have that prophetic quality... that is, you can predict your own future, or the future of anyone you talk to on this forum, because all of us are stuck (or "were" stuck) in that same primordial instinct-driven plateau of despondent fatigue, looking around... with nothing to see except, I guess, the judgment personified in the barrenness of your surroundings. 

God, I'm long-winded. I swear these thoughts are being spit out at lightning-speed because this is all I ever think about in my head. These abstract impressions of misery can crystallize themselves for like 16 hours straight if I don't consciously decide to stop. 

Although, you know, I did do this to someone I know a few days back (a girl, as it so happened)... and... to my bewilderment... she didn't abandon my horrid rambling! She actually replied in a manner that... was thoughtful and vivid and deeply encouraging. 

The following day, bursting with motivation, I took about 50mg and... under the pretense of "acting under the protective veil of somebody else's encouragement"... I had an ecstatic 5-hour period of studying something that "might help me" when I start my first semester in college in August. 

Christ. And the next day was similar (a smaller dose, but still 5 solid hours of intense focus). 

And now here I am. All out.

I need help. Not just logical cognitive-behavioral quick-fixes. I need, as it seems a "catastrophe" that'll force me off this stupid cyclical self-abuse done inside a hyper-safe vacuum of ignorance... and make me fall somewhere where the consequences of my actions are made clear. 

But, damn it! It's not like I can ask God for that, can I? "God, send me to hell instead of this satiating middle-class over-protected purgatory". That just sounds pathetic and ungrateful. 

Hm.