I'm on Adderall

I am on Adderall right now. I have a prescription for a low (10mg) daily dose of Adderall. Since my doctor recommended it, I have known a frustrating love-hate relationship with the drug. My experiences with the stimulant have been conflicting, to say the least. I have voluntarily been on and off the drug over many years. I don't want to spew political minutia here. I do not have anything to say about whether you, or your children, or your grandparents should be using these stimulants, but I do want to share my experience.

LOVE (or addiction, the first six hours):

I can feel everything.

Music sounds amazing. Every lyric makes deep intuitive sense; each chord, each sound I can't get enough of. Deep bass feels like swelling, undulating vibrations of warm milk that enter through my ears and fill my head until it's heavy. When I found out about music I bought expensive headphones.

When I put my hand in my pocket, I feel every thread against the top of my hand. Each tiny grain of sand at the bottom my finger comes in contact with is like a little world to investigate with rich textures and infinite uses.

I can know everything.

Debate is effortless and exciting. My speech races with my heart rate and I can't keep back the flood of ideas. I sweat and get an incredible adrenaline high, as I feel progressively more nervous during mid-sentence. I feel everyone's eyes fixed on me (whether they are or not).

Math and science are child's play. The humanities (the subjects that take real brain power) are fluid and dynamic. They reserve infinite potential, as I dig deeper through reports and information, trying to save the world. I look at the chalkboard and instantly comprehend what the teacher is hinting at ... the first time she says it.

HATE (or repulsion, the next six hours):

I can feel everything.

My toes hurt. The heels of my feet are tired. I'm moody. I hate you. Everything is irritating. My eyes are tired and light makes me turn away. I can feel every joint in my body as it cracks or gets stiff. The material my socks are made out of is excruciating. It rubs against the front of my toes, and I can feel its every thread, every f---ing thread. My cell phone vibrates in my pocket and I can't stand it. I want so badly to take it out and break it in half. I wouldn't get enough pleasure from throwing it, because I wouldn't feel it SNAP.

I know nothing.

I know how the medicine, I mean drug, works. I can feel it working. I can feel it bubbling in my brain. I feel stupid. I feel useless. I want to go to sleep. Now is when I used to smoke pot, because then I had a reason to be stupid. I'm blank.

I ask myself, "Can I keep doing this, forever? What if I slip when I'm coming down? I want to be a surgeon, what if I forget to take my drugs? Could I still diagnose and operate with confidence?" Sitting still feels good. As long as the music is there ... wait, I can't feel the music anymore, oh well.

Paranoia rages. I know someone is trying to get into my apartment; or wait, is someone even there? I should lock the door. OK, I'll draw the blinds too. Should I turn out the lights? This is crazy; I'll just open the door and leave it open so I can see if someone is out there. Well, maybe I should lock the door and go upstairs...

What is the day like if I don't take Adderall? Sometimes it's great, sometimes not. Every day is different. I spend a lot of energy thinking about time when I don't take the drug. I think about how time moves and how every second leads to the next. I can become frustrated because I'm not active enough, but the frustration passes when there is no Adderall running around in my brain. After reading this, you might begin to see how it is difficult to take the drug at times, and difficult not to as well.

Whatever you think about Adderall, know that it is a chemical that, when used, changes you, sometimes in a profound way.

Brandon Blische is a junior public and community health major. He can be reached at brandon@blische.net.