My Recovery Relapse – Adderall

First thing first: I have failed at every attempt to quit smoking and have quit quitting for now. Do I still desire to quit? Yes and I have a new plan that I’ll tell you about in another post. Go on, roll your eyes. I am.

Anyway,  I’ve been sitting on this post for a long time; unsure if I would even go here but I’m so clear that I must in order to keep this blog going so, here we go.

My MO is to write a novel and tell you every single detail about the rise and fall of Red, a nickname given to me by my former ROD; one of my besties of all besties who is no longer my bestie. Red was a nickname she gave me the morning of one of my final interventions. Pixie was gone for good so for the past 8 years, it was a “thing” in our friendship. One of many “things” that only we got entirely. I adopted it as my “rebellious sober alter ego” because, as you know by now, I haven’t been “clean and sober” this whole time.

I still haven’t drank but I’ve dabbled with other things along with my MJ usage during recovery; and Adderall was the one that took me down. Like, way.the fuck.down. So rather than divulging all the ugliness, I’ll give you the standard version: what it was like, what happened, and what it’s like now.

What it Was Like

It had been years since I had used Adderall when I found out one of my friends had access to it.  I think I was in my 6th year alcohol free.  My friend (who wasn’t in recovery, yet) would buy them off her friend who needed money and then she’d turn around and sell some to me.  It was the magic pill that gave me the energy and motivation to pick up my disaster of a house or tackle projects I had been putting off.  It inspired extreme creativity and gave me a sense of euphoria that, in my mind, allowed me to be a more upbeat, pleasant person to be around.  I was also on it when I started this blog.  Remember my very first post? Quite positive I was totally strung out when I wrote that.

I’m so glad I was though.  This is going to sound weird but I’m so grateful for Adderall. If it weren’t for that drug, this blog would not exist. And if this blog didn’t exist, I can tell you right now, I’d probably be drunk right now. Or in jail. Or dead.

Anyway, it was fun while it lasted but then, as most addiction stories go, it had me and started having a negative impact on my life.

What Happened

I don’t even know where to start.  The consequences I suffered in this addiction were different than when I was drinking.  They were rather subtle but looking back, more damaging. I didn’t lose my license or freedom as a result of my Adderall addiction, however, I did lose my friendship with ROD but that was a long time coming anyway so I won’t even expand on that consequence.

While my alcoholism progressed slowly over the years, my pill addiction progressed much faster. I became painfully aware of how much I was risking on my way home from picking up a stash one day. I had to stop for gas right off the freeway.  I saw a rather disheveled woman approach a truck and then I heard “SURE!”  She proceeded to get in the truck and it exited the parking lot ever so slowly as another disheveled man crept around the parking lot watching the truck’s every move.

I instantly knew what was going on. She was turning a trick for her and her boyfriend’s next fix. It hit me “you are witnessing the very lengths people will go to for their drugs and that could be you if you don’t stop this shit.”  I had just driven almost 2 hours round trip to get this stash and I’m pretty sure I had my girls in the car too. My gosh, it hurts to write that.

I don’t know how much longer I kept using after that incident but I can tell you that I already knew I had a problem but I was in denial of how bad and wasn’t ready to quit.  I knew the time was coming soon though because I couldn’t keep living the way I was living.  The Adderall, it had turned on me.  It was no longer giving me the same positive effects and yet I kept going back for more, losing countless hours in the pursuit of what what it used to be like.  I became very paranoid and would have fits of rage and uncontrollable sob fests out of nowhere.  I picked everything my husband said apart and accused him of being a narcissist.  My daughters witnessed and were on the receiving ends of my extreme highs and lows and my coworker didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me.  I was a mess.

Truth be told, my life was already a mess. All of my feelings were real, just amplified and the drugs made me think things were way worse than they really were.  I should mention that I was also on Wellbutrin at the time and smoking weed to come down from the highs, so, needless to say, my brain chemistry was jacked.  Then I watched a Netflix special on Adderall and found out it is one ingredient short of meth. Awesome.

“I’m basically a meth addict” is what I told myself and then instantly rationalized why I wasn’t and kept using it. For how much longer?  I don’t know. Unlike my drinking, nothing specific happened that made me or anyone say “okay, you’re done!”  All I know is, the day I knew would come finally came.  I told my friend to never sell them to me again and I’ve been clean from it since September 15, 2018.

What It’s Like Now

Today, I am happy, joyous and getting freer every day.  I most certainly haven’t done it alone; I couldn’t.  The last weekend I took Adderall, I was on an overnighter with my sponsor doing step work.  My recovery program was just getting started and I had no idea it would be my last weekend using.  I think that’s pretty cool.  God was very much present during that trip and has been guiding my path ever since.

But I’m still very addicted to other things that are having negative impacts on my life, and I’m ashamed to admit, they mirror those from my pill addition:

Loss of appetite, resulting in “hanger,” which leads to loss of control of my thoughts and worst of all, ability to remain calm when triggered.

And who suffers the most from this?

My daughters.

Enough is enough.

Coffee and cigarettes, you gots to go.

For real this time.

#morewillberevealed

My Recovery Relapse – Cigs

Step 1 – We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable. (BB, pg. 59 )

It’s been one month and 2 days since I posted and I should be over 30 days without a cigarette.  But, of course, I am not.

In the past month, I haven’t been able to go longer than 2 days without breaking down and satiating the cravings.  I have purchased and thrown away several packs; as well as purchased and smoked several packs. I’ve reset my quit date in my quit smoking app a gazillion times and wouldn’t you know, I just did AGAIN!  I made it about 20 hours before the opportunity presented itself and I was lighting up.

What’s wrong with me!?!?!?!

HA!  I’m kidding.  Nothing is WRONG with me, I’m just an addict.

I’m an addict who normally needs to be backed into a corner before taking the steps necessary to make a serious change.

An addict who walks the line as long as I can until something really bad happens and I am forced to change.

An addict who has been in recovery long enough to know NOW that there is no “easier, softer way” to drastic change. I MUST be willing to do whatever it takes and as I said in my last post, I want to 12 step this bitch, so let’s get on with it already.

But before I do, I need to let another skeleton out of the closet because, well, this is the “Recovery Relapse Series” and I’ve hit another milestone not many people know about and that is this:

Today, September 16th, 2019, marks 1 whole year clean from Adderall.

You guys…I so want to talk about this right now but I can’t. It’s late and it’s not on topic. We’re talking about my cig addiction right now, the one I’m still fighting to quit! But my Adderall addiction is a huge part of my story and if I’m being totally honest, this blog wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for Adderall.

Sooooooo, yeah, I gotta talk about it. But, like I said, later, ok?

I gotta go smoke ANOTHER final cig, destroy ANOTHER pack of cigarettes & change my date AGAIN before hitting the hay.

Step 1 – I am powerless over cigarettes and my life has become unmanageable.

How?

Click here.

#morewillberevealed

P.S. In case you were wondering, I’m still a grateful recovering alcoholic who has been AF for 7.46 years and practices MMR (for now) and goes to AA.

That’s 89.60 months without wine…

…2,727 days without a cocktail &

65,447 hours without a single drop of alcohol touching my dry, wrinkled 39 year old smoker lips.

Yeah, no, I’m still keeping my date sobriety date…for now.

 

 

Skeletons 3.5 – My Recovery Relapse Series

Relapse (past & present:) “We’re only as sick as our secrets.” – AA slogan.

I haven’t been honest with you guys.

I mean, I have, but…not totally honest.

Remember how I said there are things I know I have to talk about and I don’t want to?

Well, I guess you can say I’ve been hiding behind this secret and allowing it to excuse me from writing for the past 2+ months.

I have wanted to move out of the past and write about the present but uhhhh, I haven’t been doing that now, have I? So clearly I need to still talk about some past shit in order to move on.

That’s how working a spiritual program of action works. And when I’m not doing it to the best of my ability, life is just harder. I can’t explain how that is and I’m digressing anyway so let’s just put a pin in that for now.

Back to my BBS that I have been harboring; recent events have made it abundantly clear that I cannot hang onto this part of my story anymore and if I continue to ignore my instincts, I will remain stuck in my recovery and I don’t want that.

So here it is: towards the end of 2018, I determined that not only am I an alcoholic but I am also a straight up addict.

Cigarettes, alcohol, weed, sugar, pills, & caffeine – I have abused them all at various points in my life and it’s time I write about it and make some serious changes while I’m at it.

Kicking this series off is the cigs because I’m ashamed to admit that after promising my 6 year old daughter that I would quit smoking back in May, I still am puffing them down and I can’t fucking stand it anymore.

Pause, you guys, I just went to look at when I last posted. It was May 22nd. The last “quit date” I set for myself and here I am about to set another one. Weird. Anyway…

I swore up and down I’d quit smoking before my daughters would ever know I smoked and yet here we are, her little voice yelling at me from the screen door for all the neighbors to hear: “MOMMY! STOP SMOKING!”

Me: (whisper yelling) oh my gosh…get inside…oh my gosh (closes door)

(walks away)

(door opens again)

A1: MOMMY! NO SMOKING!”

Can we say mortified?

I’ve made countless vain attempts in quitting.  I’ve made a gazillion promises to friends and loved ones, solemn oaths and public social media announcements.  I’ve quit smoking WAY more times than I quit drinking. Just like any relapse, I was immediately hooked after the first cigarette.  It has been, by far, the hardest addiction to crush.

I remember my first sponsor telling me she used the 12 steps to quit smoking, so…that’s what I’m going to do.

Seriously. I am.

I know you don’t believe me.

I wouldn’t either.

But mark my mother effing words: I. WILL. QUIT. SMOKING. CIGARETTES!

Tomorrow is Day 1, Step 1.

#morewillberevealed