Confessions of a Dreamer
I have a good friend who has been challenging me to write about my experiences and share my thoughts on how my mind worked while I was going through certain things. This particular paragraph deals with my obsession with food during the time I was addicted to Adderall. I developed Drug Induced Anorexia as a result of Adderall taking away my appetite in almost it’s entirety. While I have put on weight since I stopped taking the drug, these thoughts for a time where very real and very present for me on a daily basis
I have a hate / hate relationship with food. I hate that I have to eat it, I hate that I actually need it. Every day it is the same routine. First I pop that glorious orange pill of mine that does nothing for my ADHD but works wonders on my appetite. Then I down 1, 2, 3 cups of coffee (I stop counting after a while) and chain smoke cigarettes until the afternoon.
Lunch is typically anything sweet, by this point in the day coffee and cigarettes can only go so far, my body is craving something anything to take away the intense pains that rumble deep within my stomach. A slice of pie, a stick of gum, a lollipop. So long as the sugar content is high and I can trick my stomach for a few more hours I am good to go.
As evening rolls around I finally have to give into my bodies demands if only to stop the tremors in my hands and to make the spots in my eyes disappear. I am very selective, very careful, however, about what I will put into my body. I have gotten very good at limiting my intake to 500 to 600 calories a day, 800 on a binge day when my pills are locked up and I can’t double up on my dose.
Now snug in my bed, enveloped in the warmth of my blanket and my husband sleeping beside me, I take a moment to run my hands along my ribs, and relish in the feel of my hipbones as the jut out beneath my skin. There are still areas for improvement, but tomorrow is a new day and another chance for me to win my battle with food.