I did something bad, and I feel really guilty about it. Not guilty about what I actually did, per se, but guilty over lying. Or, at least omitting the truth and being otherwise deceitful…
Because of severe exhaustion, both physically and mentally, I have been really struggling lately to be an active participant in my life. And, whether due to injury from 9+ concussions, lack of blood flow to the brain, medication side effects, not sleeping, migraine pain and cloudiness or simply a bad cold or a long night of vomiting, my brain fog has been absolutely debilitating. Unsurprisingly, this has significantly impacted my academic standing. I love my major and will study for hours on end, but I cannot seem to retain information no matter how hard I try. My short term memory is laughable, and I just feel totally “out of it” overall.
So…I took some Adderall.
One of my physicians prescribed me Adderall in 2014 to trial for hypotension and chronic fatigue and it worked beautifully.
However, the Adderall I took this time was not my prescription. I bought it.
Yes, I BOUGHT IT from a guy in our apartment complex who I knew dealt drugs. I’ve never done anything like that before. 10 little blue pills for $50.
It was almost as if a weighted, fuzzy blanket had been lifted and someone cracked a window to allow in some fresh air. My thoughts didn’t feel as loud and chaotic. I felt peaceful and calm, yet alert and capable.
$50 allowed me to catch up and succeed academically despite my broken body, saving my semester.
I didn’t experience any negative side effects. No nausea, no noticeable increase in tachycardia, no shakiness, no anxiety.
Those pills pulled me from the deepest pits of depression – both with happiness and relief over finally succeeding and getting caught up with school and the fact that I actually had some energy for once.
Sitting up wasn’t a chore. Writing an email or replying to a text message was no longer a daunting task. I looked forward to reading once again. Homework and studying didn’t feel impossible.
I experienced mental clarity for the first time since I can remember (ha ha, accidental brain fog/poor memory joke). That in itself gave me hope.
I was honestly starting to believe that I’d never be able to think again and that I was somehow past the point of fixing…but this experience has shown me that the person I used to know and love (or at least like, haha) is still in there somewhere. While I may live in a broken body, I am not broken.
I’m not sure if my moral compass was bruised along with my brain, but my feelings of relief and excitement are overshadowing my guilt and shame, at least for the time being.
I still have one left…