How Can I Say I'm a Pill-Popper, But in a Classy way?


Time to Admit It: I Take Adderall (well, now I can proudly say took... hopefully). Well, the generic version anyway, not that bougie of a drug user.


I have quite a history with that little amphetamine. I never took it in college, I was too goodie goodie for that somehow. But when I lived in Tel Aviv, everyone took it to party. And since I was the "poor" Jewish girl from Pennsylvania (in comparison to the trust fund babies of Beverly Hills and Greenwich, Connecticut), I wanted to at least be a cool Jewish girl. I don't know how many milligrams I took, but I remember being at a club called Chatul v' Kelev (Cat & Dog). My teeth were chattering, I was probably talking about the same thing over and over again, maybe how hot some coked out Israeli was or how I loved the music, but whatever. Of course didn't sleep the whole night.


When I was 25 and started selling life insurance, the hours were utterly insane. My friend was in dental hygiene school and we had an idea that we should take Adderall so that we could get through the hours and focus. Well, well, well. Not even a year later, my $300+ per month habit let me pOp up to 120mg a day. I finally realized I was an idiot, spilled the pills all over a parking lot in the middle of the night and drove over them. I drove over them for a grand effect.


And then L.A. Ahhh, well that urge to use came back. No, not use. pOp. Shrinks prescribe anything these days, so that was easy. I won't bore you with the details of the following seven years of my existence, I'll say that I was pOpping at least 40mg of the stuff.


One early morning at approximately 5:27am, Gemini Psycho asked if I took Adderall. I said, “Yes.” My answer was meant to be understatedly sassy, as in, who was he to question my prescriptions of choice?


And oh did the flood gates open with that one. Four hours later after being accused of being a pill popping drug addict, who was basically a meth-head vI sobbed, and flushed the remainder of those beautiful orange beauties down the toilet. See:





Like I stated, keeping it classy.


I sent this to photo, but Gemini Psycho didn’t even seem to care. The rampage went on about how I was essentially ruining my body. My teeth. My organs. My lifespan. I was scared of the damage I may have already done. By 11am I was starting to feel tired, which was when I’d normally pOp another pill, there were none to pOp. Coffee it was. So... basic. Somehow I got through the day because I have a good friend called Xanax that eases the anxiety the withdrawal induces. I admitted my devilish behavior to my friend, and this was the supportive solace i received:





Please note I did not make any judgmental comments about Christian ladies.


By Sunday, I thought life was over. Gemini Psycho was a drill sergeant, telling me to get moving, that Pilates doesn’t count as sweating. Please - I’d like to see him do an hour HIIT style cardio pilates, it’s rough. Somehow I made it to Publix to buy those little detox and energy shots. Those "shots" did not work. I also wrote for a little. Not this blog, instead I was working on a different project that will hopefully catapult my writing partner and me to fame and fortune one day.


Monday came. Ha. Ha. The fatigue was so bad I wouldn’t have even been able to drive a car legally. Waves of depression engulfed me every so often and I questioned my existence on earth. When I responded to a group chat about six hours after everyone else, my best friend said, “Hi!” And my response was, “Sorry, I dumped my Adderall down the toilet Friday, I’m in withdrawal.”


Crickets.

“I’m hungry,” someone else announced. Go figure. The only person taking my drug addiction seriously here was Gemini Psycho, who had really now turned into Drill Sergeant Gemini Psycho with the list of Do’s and Don’ts I kept getting. The latest was “No drinking while you’re detoxing.” I wasn’t going to drink, but whoops. One thing at a time, kids.


As I write this Wednesday morning, I have a few fears. First, this caffeine crap calle coffee is just not cutting it. I’m exhausted, even though I managed to get in a good swim at the Y. Second, how am I ever going to focus for real again? Will my creativity be stunted without any jolts of euphoria the Adderall provided? And worst of all:


AM I GOING TO GET FAT?!


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