Citation: SpockRoark. "Philosophize and Smile For a Change: An Experience with Amphetamines (Adderall) (exp22766)". Erowid.org. Oct 2, 2007. erowid.org/exp/22766
The doctors tell me that I suffer from severe depression due to chemical imbalances in my brain. I tell myself that my problems occur on a much more theoretical level, i.e. I am routinely glum because I engage in philosophical discovery which seems to point me toward the conclusion that everything is meaningless. That having been said, I do drugs so that I may gain a new perspective on life. It all started with a little bit of alcohol to numb me from the world. Later on, I moved into benzodiazepines like diazepam, clonazepam and alprazolam. These donít quite hit the spot, so I tried barbiturates like phenobarbital. A little opiate action (hydrocodone and oxycodone) rounded out the trifecta. After all of these begin to become disinteresting, I turned to the opposite end of the spectrum, amphetamines.
More recently, a major function of my depressive moods is a persistent disunity with the surrounding world. No matter the scenario, I am astonished to feel even the slightest bit of emotion or to find any significance in anything. This changes with my little orange buddies. I now routinely purchase thirty 20 mg XR capsules every month, and they are worth every penny. When I take this substance, I am reunited with the world I once left behind. I want to be alive. I smile. At times, I even am prepared to shed a tear for the sake of beauty.
On one particularly dreary evening at Cornell University in the relative tundra of Ithaca, NY, I chose to ingest forty mgs before hitting the library. Now, some may complain that forty is a small dose and rant that I am a lightweight. There is a reason for the relatively small dose. When I take too much, I tweak, which is far from conducive to pure thought and reason. Using the drug in this manner is something akin to sacrilege. By doing so, I take something pure and make it a purely physically pleasurable experience. Sacrificing some of the physical for a magnified sense of pleasure through a mind/body dichotomy is infinitely more valuable.
Back to the library. I chose to surround myself for a couple hours with two incredible headfuck artists, namely Vonnegut and Epicurus. I immersed myself wholly into a few select texts and was able to understand them as I had never before done. Clarity is the perfect word for this. I felt as though their thoughts were my thoughts; I was no longer alone in the world. I wrote page after page of my own philosophies into my notebooks, ideas flowing like vodka at the Kremlin. All of this prepped me for a night of absolute euphoria.
Wisely, I chose to bump another capsule in order to maintain my level of cheer before heading out to a favorite local coffeehouse with a dear friend, not that I was in the mood to eat after taking the uppers. [Side note: time release provides a really bitter drip and is probably no better than oral ingestion. Oh well] She and I talked for hours about what it meant to be real, what life may or may not be and how we should best conduct our affairs even with an overwhelming sense of impending doom prominent in our worldviews. We analyzed dreams. We analyzed each other. We made sense of chaos only to tear it all down again. It didnít matter that I had no more answers than when we bagan to discuss things. It only mattered that my mind was being challenged and my capacity to think was heightened to a useful level.
This was the connection with reality for which I had been longing. This was the emotional release desperately sought. This was the crack of a smile in the face of darkness. This was one of many beautiful nights to come thanks to responsible usage of a fantastic substance.
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