From Zero to Hero, And Back Again

[monkey801]

A relentless and unbearably long part of my life has been consumed with struggle. If not with one trial, then another. The breaks in between these times of turmoil seem almost nonexistent.

The conflicts that plagued my life lent a hulk-sized hand in my having been prescribed with Adderall at age 15. For the first little while, I didn't take the Adderall regularly. I predominantly sold it to a hankering league of loyal customers, making an incredible profit.

Inevitably I began taking those little orange pills more frequently, it was as if I had discovered that I was superhuman. I went from failing many of my classes and being a loser pot-head slob to getting near a 4.0 and keeping not only my room but my entire house immaculately clean. My parents were thrilled as they felt their son had returned from the dead, having lost the sweet little boy I used to be to opiates by the time I was 14. Unfortunately, the superhuman me did not last forever.

Eventually the amphetamine monster tightened its vice grip on me and reared it's repulsive head, showing its true colors, although colors fail to describe what being an Adderall addict really means. Ten thousand shades of grey, that is all an addict feels, sees, (doesn't) eat, or (also doesn't) dream. It devours the soul of its unsuspecting victim, often months or years before they have even a clue.

I have failed many, many times to go more than two weeks without Adderall. When I have endured that crippling withdrawal, it has been only because I've taken my entire prescription over the course of a miserable 168 hour day. 7 days, 3 to 5 meals, perhaps 20 hours of sleep; the bare minimum for survival.

I am now 20 years old, and it is time to stop saying, "for the life of me, I swear I can't stop taking Adderall," weeping on the inside but having been robbed of nearly all outward expression of emotion. Now it is, "for the life of me, I have to stop taking Adderall." I feel that if I don't, it will be the death of me.

Probably the hardest thing for me has been that I've treated the love of my life in a way the real me never would over the last 6 months or so. I've said and done things that I regret so much. I cannot bear the thought of losing him, but my words and actions have been so void of emotions aside from frustration, erupting from deep within my personal turmoil. Jacob, if you ever read this, know that I am so sorry. I love you so much more than you could ever know, you are absolutely everything to me and you always will be. Thank you for standing by me and being so strong for me.

This is my turning point, and by Christmas I will have weened off of this horrific drug. The time to start was a long time ago, but now is the best I can do.