The names of characters have been changes in this article for privacy purpose.
My father believes that because the school I go to is so costly, he must get the results that he’s paying for. Whenever my siblings or I falter, he explodes.
Once, in seventh grade, what began as a dinner discussion about what I could do to pull up my grades ended with my father yelling at me for being lazy and not working hard. When he said those things to me, I felt like a failure and a mistake. I also felt remorseful that I was squandering his cash.
I made plans to invest more energy in school and show my father that I cared about his sacrifices. This, alongside my own desire to do well in school, put me under immense pressure to succeed. I built up a side that was fueled by uncertainty and tension about not being as hard working as my peers.
When I was in secondary school, my anxiety and timetable were wild. An ordinary day went something like this: Wake up at 7 a.m., grab a Red Bull to drink on my approach to class. In class, I remind myself to raise my hand and force myself to focus. I understand an Algebra 2 equation but have a wrong answer, and my face flushes red with humiliation as some other girl raises her hand and flawlessly fixes the error. Time for English, where I make a decent attempt to state something that will influence my instructor to shout, “Splendid!” I fall flat.
The anxiety doesn’t end after school. I have to compose articles for the school paper or design a format for the yearbook. I feel a serious need to get into a good college and to do that, I think I need to do an incredible measure of extracurriculars. All of the children at my school go ahead to top universities; truth be told, the general purpose of my school is to help us get into top schools.
I get home at 7 p.m., watch TV while eating, and sleep around 10:30. I miss dinner, however, I’ve topped off on Pringles so it doesn’t make a difference. I wake up panicked, recalling the monstrous pile of homework I have sitting on my desk; I down another Red Bull to get spurred. I have a moment of panic whenever I come across a math issue or English question, I have a snapshot of frenzy. I worry that my answer may not be right, so as opposed to giving it a shot, I delay and concentrate on Facebook.
A Capsule of Focus:
One day, I was surfing the web instead of preparing for my science test, when I read an article about how students were utilizing the doctor prescribed medication Adderall, normally endorsed by individuals with ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), to excel. As indicated by the students interviewed, the medication enabled them to focus better and gave them enough energy to stay up late and study for a considerable amount of time.
Despite the fact that the article listed the risks of utilizing Adderall without a prescription such as high body temperatures, irregular heartbeat, suicidal thoughts, etc. — I was interested in the possibility that a medication could enable somebody to improve the situation in school.
A thought occurred to me. What if I made a post asking if there was an individual who lived in New York City and might offer me Adderall. I didn’t have my name anyplace on my blog, so I figured I couldn’t get in a trouble for it. I wrote the post and hit “publish.”
The following day, a young lady named Sarah answered, telling me that she had the medication. I was afraid of meeting a stranger, but her blog gave the feeling that she was a typical secondary school kid looking for some cash.
I knew she could have been lying and that she won’t be who she said she was. Also, obviously, acquiring Adderall without a prescription is illegal. Despite the fact that I was mindful of these perils at the time, I was so centered around getting ahead of everyone that it got the better of my judgment.
We decided to meet at the Union Square Barnes & Noble. While going down the lift, we made the exchange: 4 pills for $20. During the cab ride home, ride home, I took one pill. I didn’t know what’s going to happen, but once I returned home and began my homework, I quickly felt the effect.
I started doing my around 6:00 pm, and the next time I looked up the clock, it was past 9. I had focused on my studies for over 3 hours straight without any problem. The next thing I did was clean my room, which was pretty unusual for me. I went to bed around 1:00 am and woke up the next day all grumpy and tired. I just had two hours of sleep. I came out of bed and remembered that I had taken Adderall couple hours ago. So I took one once more and suddenly got back to high energy levels. Despite its side effect, I came to the conclusion that Adderall was the solution to all my problems.
I was also building up a resistance to Adderall, so I was utilizing progressively a greater amount of it to get a similar impact. This was depleting the cash that I had saved over the years. What’s worse, I was feeling reliant on it. In order to feel more powerful, I needed to take the medication. When I wasn’t taking it, I felt miserable. The longer this went on, the more miserable I felt about using it.
However, I didn’t drop the use of Adderall despite my growing addiction to it. I Finished my school with an A average. My parents and teachers are proud of me but what matters the most is that I am proud of myself because I earned those grades using my own capabilities.