ScaredtoFall

Ugh. This is really hard for me. No one in my life, not a single person not even my therapist knows what I am going through, so finding this website has put so many words to the feelings I have been feeling recently. Even if you don't read this massive stream of consciousness, writing the truth out for the first time in a place I know people will see it makes me feel just a little lighter. I have known I am addicted to adderall for some time now, but only until the last four-five months have I really started to notice that the perceived "pros" are wildly outweighed by the cons. BUT even despite wanting to feel emotionally closer to my partner, wanting to experience the joy in the little things, not wanting to be in task-mode all the time, wanting to find my passions naturally instead of through some 3-hour hyper focus rabbit hole and losing interest as soon as I come down, and wanting to feel like MYSELF (someone who used to be so kind and silly and funny and spontaneous and had dreams and goals and values I lived by), I STILL feel so much resistance to giving up this persona I have built over the past 5 1/2 years -- a stellar performer at work who is secretly so deeply empty and alone inside. I don't know how to separate the life I lead on Adderall from who I actually am. I don't know how to separate my productivity from my worth, especially as someone who was diagnosed in college and saw how much more praise, recognition, and success being able to put my thoughts in order and follow through on my desires brought me. It sucks because I DO have ADHD and have been diagnosed multiple times, but our society isn't set up to help people with brains like mine. I want to stop so bad. I want to be free from the obsessive thoughts of when my next dose will be, the lack of confidence in my sober self in practically every setting, and the belief that I can't be successful without it. But every time I feel certain in my decision to quit, the fear creeps back in. What if my work notices the HUGE drop in productivity after I quit, and they fire me? What if I go back to the chaotic brain fog that was my reality before I was diagnosed with ADHD (I convince myself that this was worse than the life I lead now because I never got anything done before starting adderall, but deep down I know this isn't true because at least I was me)? I am so ashamed. I am trying to be kind to myself but I feel paralyzed by my lack of self trust. I know people say that in order to quit you have to violently prioritize yourself....I genuinely don't know if I can. I have always needed validation, approval, and the feeling like I am "good enough" -- and I don't know if I'm capable of being my personal advocate. I am so so so afraid of being perceived as "bad" or "wrong" or being scolded that it has prevented me from seeking out any support. This whole time I've been typing, I have been avoiding saying this but I think sharing my truth with someone, ANYONE will ease the obsessive, shame-filled, lonely reality I've found myself in. So, here is the first time I have ever confessed my full story: I am addicted to adderall. I started out with 10mg IR once a day then eventually it became two, then three or four on my "really busy" days, then I discovered that I could also use it for my social life, so I would go out and be so confident and have drinks and have sex and feel so "happy" and "good" until I came down. I don't use it for partying as much anymore, but that is only because I take so much for work now that I would run out of my prescriptions even faster than I already do. Every month is a failed struggle of trying to ration my doses and practice self-control and every month I binge or convince myself I need to take "just one more" to get what I "need to do" done. I distort reality and convince myself that the horrific crash will be a nice "alone time" after all the work I get done to decompress, scroll my phone, and turn my brain off, but it never feels as relaxing or rejuvenating as I make it out to be. It's lonely time, where the shame and disappointment and fear and disgust swirl around over and over and over and the only thing I can do to feel like I'm not going to drown is by pretending everything is ok. But it's not. I am prescribed 20mg IR twice a day now, but most days, I take AT LEAST 80 mg just to get through my work. This can increase to 120mg-140mg if I have any post-work plans because I so desperately want to be social but the thought of being a brain-dead zombie in front of people I know is so terrifying and anxiety-inducing that I redose to prevent hitting the wall in front of others. In the times I have run out, I have bought from people with prescriptions, I have bought from people who I don't even know if they have prescriptions, I have stolen from my mother, brother, and step-dad's adderall bottles when I visit home (everyone in my family has a prescription at this point), and I have even stolen from my friend's prescriptions if I am desperate enough (this, I am most ashamed of). I know it's not healthy. I know. But I feel so powerless. I don't know who or what I've become. I have gotten so snippy and agitated and self-absorbed and selfish and narrow-sighted and out of touch with nature and my body and my dreams that I don't know how to come back from this without completely restarting my entire life. And I don't know if I'm ready to do that. I WANT TO REACH OUT BUT I AM TOO AFRAID TO RUIN THE FACADE. I haven't told my therapist because I'm embarrassed and I don't want her to only think of me as an addict or that all my problems stem from my adderall use (though many do). I worry that she will think I've been deceitful by not disclosing this very important reality earlier. I have tried to share my experience to my psychiatrist, but I always chicken out. Getting my prescription filled each month is hard enough as it is, and I worry that one day I will regret completely closing that door (ideally, I would eventually be able to use my medication in a healthy way like I did in the beginning but deep down I don't even know if this is possible given how hard it is to control the impulse to redose). Then, there is my partner, who has been with me for almost 7 years and supports me so much and has such a beautiful image of me that it makes me nauseous just thinking about ruining that image. This is the fall from grace I am most scared to experience. He met me undiagnosed and unmedicated and saw how each day was a SEVERE struggle that involved crying, anger outbursts, mood swings, binge eating, procrastination, and all nighters to meet deadlines. He saw my education and my ability to take care of myself improve as soon as I was introduced to adderall (I went from never working out and almost failing out of school to sticking to a 4-5x a week strength routing for multiple years and bringing my GPA up to 3.8 and actually being involved in extracurriculars for once). The problem is, he doesn't know that I have been spiraling over the past two years since entering the workforce in an industry that is so high-stress and deadline focused (PR). He doesn't know that I take more than I am prescribed. I've tried on so many occasions to tell him and I know he would only want to help, but I am so scared of being viewed as flawed and for my addiction to become a tangible thing. I have even sat him down with every intention to admit my abuse because I so desperately need to not carry this burden alone, but all I can ever get out is some variation of "I want to stop taking my meds because they don't make me feel like myself." Every time I try to say the real truth of the situation, I freeze. The words sit on the tip of my tongue and I just can't get them out. It feels like my body shuts down and wont let me confess. The closest I have gotten to confessing is saying "I think I'm addicted to adderall" to which he asks why and all I can do is shrug. Since he thinks I have been taking my meds as prescribed, he advises me not to quit -- citing how much my life has turned around, how much more consistent I am in my relationships, my routines, and my career. I know that from his external perspective, these meds have transformed my life for the better-- and in some ways they have-- but the significant benefits they provided the first few years have turned sour. Yes, I have been incredibly successful in my career and i no longer suffer from the shame of being incapable of anything productive, but at what cost? My entire personality and zest for life? Why do I care so much about working myself into the ground and succeeding professionally when deep down all I want is peace and human connection? I have become a slave to my meds. I can only work when I've taken my pill. I keep a timer on my phone so I know exactly when to take my subsequent doses to prevent the dreaded crash. I've convinced myself I am nothing without this drug, when the truth is, I am nothing with it. I feel so empty. Nothing truly brings me joy, unless it's another substance like weed or alcohol to take the edge off or another upper to give me a similar energy boost and clarity that Adderall provides. I get a few glimpses of the real me when I skip a day or two on the weekends but those are usually overshadowed by extreme fatigue and brain fog and guilt for sleeping entire days away. After 4 days off adderall, I start feeling crazy -- my ADHD makes my brain think SO FAST and I can't make sense of my thoughts without adderall and end up paralyzed and crying from overwhelm. My job is so stressful that sometimes I feel the only way I'll be able to successfully stop abusing adderall is by leaving everything behind and locking myself away in some wooded cabin. Unfortunately, I can't afford that luxury. But what do I do when the expectations/standards I have demonstrated for myself and convinced others to set for me are impossibly high due to my adderall abuse? I am so burnt out from just daily life, but I can't seem to cultivate the faith that I can break this vicious and unsustainable cycle before the façade I've built comes painfully crashing down around me in ways worse than I can imagine. I wish I could truly believe that I am enough without my adderall. I wish I could ignore the worries about what other people will think of me unmedicated. I wish I could erase the narrative that my worth as a person is tied to my professional success or my salary. I wish I could trust that quitting will be better for my entire existence as a human. I wish I had the resources and support to stop being a member of society while going through withdrawal so that it could feel even slightly less daunting. I wish I could bring myself to tell anyone in my life the truth of what my relationship with this once miracle drug has become. I wish I had the courage to stop living this lie . - ScaredToFall