Hell Invading

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…Enough about my day to day routine. Lets talk about these urges. No I have not used. It has been about 2 or 2 1/2 months since the last time I put that white powder in my nostrils. I never really felt like I had to keep doing it but I sure liked it because it made me feel up. Well now I am feeling up without substances and I feel pretty good on the medication concoction me and the psychiatrist made up. I know in the past when I feel this elevated I have done some impulsive things. That is why I cut myself because I didnt know what to do with feeling that great. It scares me. So I try to keep the feeling as long as I can by doing things that get me “high” like cocaine, sex, alcohol or shopping or binge/purging/restricting. My life feels like a giant addiction. One addiction after another. Cross addicting anything that can make me feel better, even if only for a brief second. Now I have to plan ahead and think about what I am doing before I actually act on a behavior. IT IS SO FUCKING HARD. LIKE WHY CAN I NOT BE A NORMAL PERSON AND HAVE SELF CONTROL?!?!?!!

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Two days later I am picking up where I left off with this blog. It is with disgust and disappointment within myself that I must make this confession.No, I did not use cocaine; but I wanted to keep my elevated mood so I used Adderall instead. Now in the past I have tried Adderall twice. One time was incollege. I had a very important Chemistry test that I just did not understand at all so me and two friends put together a study party and at about midnight we decided that we should be up studying the whole night because I still didnt know what the fuck I was learning about. I passed out 25 minutes later on the couch and my friends woke me up the next day. EPIC FAIL i guess. The second time I tried using adderall was at STL pride a few years ago. I was having the time of my life being around so many genuine and supportive people and socializing came naturally to me. We stayed out from 11am until 9 pm. YES i was intoxicated and so were my friends. They wanted to keep the momentum going though so we piled in a taxi, popped an adderall and headed to the after partyat the bar EVERYONE would be at. It took us about 20 minutes to get there and about 20 minutes for me to want to go back to the hotel and crawl under the coversinto bed for the night. So, needless to say, I took my tired ass another 30 min in a taxi and they took their partyin asses into that dance club. I missed out on a good time. I guess it just didnt want to work the same way for me as it was intended too.
Flash forward 3 years. I get perscribed it from the doctor in hopes I would recieve a counter effect for my depression. Something that would get me moving in the morning and able to complete the simpliest of tasks since I would walk into the room to clean it, find something that needed put in the bathroom and then proceed to clean a different room. Nothing ever got done. The adderall worked, despite the fact I told my doctor it probably would only make me fallasleep. She wanted to try it though and it actually helped me to get stuff done. Only at the end of the day I continued to clean and felt like I neededmore of the adderall to keep me going. I hate sleeping and cleaning was a good excuse for me not to sleep. I crashed after about 3 days and decided this wasntthe medication for me. I decided that I can’t rely on yet another pill to keep me functioning in the right direction. My doctor knew about my addictivepersonality and made the wise choice to take me off of it.
I still had a few left over though. And they sat in the medicine cabinet for 9 months, pushed aside and to the back out of direct access.I cleaned the medicine cabinet the other day. I found the left over pills and I for sure thought I needed the push or the motivation to keep feelingUP. So I opened the white lid, grabbed one of the little yellow pills and threw it in my mouth. I stood there looking at my reflection in the mirrior with the look of complete disgust on my face. My nose pressed and crinkled, lips pierced and eyebrows raised. I looked like I wanted to murder the person that wastrying to defect my body and cause me to spiral into another depression. I wanted to choke her. Shake her and squeeze her so hard the yellow tablet releases fromunder my tongue and onto the floor. The floor where gallons of my blood had pooled together to remind me I was alive and that the mistake I had previously madedoesnt make me an ET but reassures me I am still normal. I’m not the only one with these problems. So intead of diving off the high dive and into red molassesI looked directly back at my judger, said “FUCK YOU. I MAKE MY OWN CHOICES” and swallowed. Who was I going to listen to . Do you trust yourself? Which selfcan you trust and which self is trying to jepordize your sanity?
Instead of feeling high on cocaine I felt high on adderall. I was so proud of all I had accomplished all morning and afternoon but right around dinnertime, the reflection made her appearance again and injected into my bloodstream a whole vile of shame. I WANTED tO KILL MYSELF. ALL BECAUSE OF ONE YELLOW PILL SMALLER THANA DIME. Was I really going to let myself ruin my day. ABSOLUTELY that is where the guilt chimes in and I am persuaded to make myself feel as miserable as possible for wanting to feel as high as ever. That is what I deserved right? I deserved to feel pain, since I was trying to avoid it in the first place.I hopped in the shower, tore apart the razor I had just bought to replace the one from the day before and I unstitched myself with the blades fine edges. My flesh was exposed again but no liquid came pouring out. It just kind of sat as a divit on my wrist. Nothing exciting or orgasmic about it. Nothing rushing out reminding me I am human. Just an open would that was healing soon. I am not even going to lie when I say it took me 45 minutes of me convincing myselfto throw the blade away because all I wanted to do was pry it open again. Just one more cut. Just one more Adderall.
I spent the night on the phone with the crisis hotline. My first encounter with people who are given jobs to properly calm people like me down from doing something more impulsive and permenent. Libby talked to me for an hour. PLEASE do not feel embarassed to use this resource. ANYONE at ANYTIME. That is what they are there for? To keep us from doing something to hurt ourselves wether that be suicide or self harm. I felt heard, understood and now I am not ashamed to call back if I need help getting through one of those moments again. I just hope I get Libby again.
After a scare like that, or as I would like to call it an accomplishment, I scheduled an appointment with my nurse practitioner and was able to get inthe same day. We decided my BPD was acting up and my ICD(impulse control disorder) was getting to be out of hand. From calling to trying to get adderallre-prescribed to me from being tempted to cheat sexually, from alcohol, adderall, binge eating, starving myself and spending money I CLEARLY dont have right now on clothes, candles, advertisements and fast food. THANK GOD I GOT IN WHEN I DID. My prozac made me hypomanic. And no I am not bipolar, just medicationinduced mania. So as I sit here now, coming down NATURALLY from this high, I look at all the chaos I created and all the drama that could have been.I could have lost my relationship. I could have lost my family. I could have lost my self-worth, after growing it the last few months and I could have lostmy life. One impulsive cut could have gone through that arterial vein.
I am left with yet another scar to remind me where I have been but I would like to just once throw that scar out the window and be left decoratedwith some beautiful henna or confidence and self-control. It is happening but it is not taking over night.
Love and Rage,LynsNich
PS: If you are missing something that is bad for you, try a pro’s and con’s list of that behavior and write out all possible consequences. Whoreally wants or can do that in the moment or even remembers but YOU HAVE TO! AND YOU CAN!

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