The Superman Complex

The Addict

Addiction begins as denial. I didn't expect to get as far in as I did. Now, it's those around me that deny it.

I was diagnosed with a mild form of ADD when I was in seventh grade. They put me on Concerta, a central nervous system booster that would help me focus. And it did - for about two months. They increased my dosage, and that worked for two months. Another raise worked for one month, and then I stopped taking it. I was fine without it because it was summer. But as soon as school started again, I had to get back on it.

Eventually, the Concerta became too expensive. I was prescribed on the generic form of the drug, but it began to make me sick and mess with my sleep. In my sophomore year of high school, they switched me to Amphetamine, the generic form of Adderall. One pill a day worked for a year.

Then I began to take two pills a day, one in the morning and one when I felt my focus fading. It grew to two morning pills and one pill for a boost. I'm at three pills a day now, a total intake of 30 milligrams.

I'm nothing like the addicts I've met; my coworkers who smoke joints in the bathrooms and don't come to work after a night of partying; my friends who are constantly in treatment or have almost died of overdose; my mother, who every now and then sneaks out to the barn for a smoke; my father, who often keeps contact with cybersluts but would never dare to cheat on my mother. But I am a problem, and theirs make mine feel small.

I'm addicted like they are. My body feels languid without the drug. My mind doesn't function without the drug. I as a person am fine without it. But the drug is in my blood, in my system, and when it isn't, my body reacts.

So many things that come from the drug take so much away from me. I cannot donate blood because of this unfilterable stimulant. I cannot consume more than two cans of soda or a cup of coffee in a day because it's hard on my heart. I cannot be at full mental capacity without my drugs.

I wouldn't be considered an addict by most medical standards. My doctors say I'm fine. The withdrawals are side effects. The headaches are from eye strain. The sleep loss is me spending too much time on the internet.

And as such my addiction has become a vicious cycle. My denial spawned theirs. It's a twisted and unfortunate truth that the thing that's supposed to help is doing the damage.