Addiction

During the course of hospitalization, partial day-programs, and personal therapy, I learned to embrace the "Addict" label. While stimulants (prescriptions smart drugs) were most detrimental to my health, during the course of recovery, I've realized that addictive tendencies have played a role throughout my life. I would even argue my ability to get hooked has worked to my advantage in certain situations.

Growing up, I loved competing. Sports became my outlet. Even the sports I wasn't that great at, I enjoyed. I wasn't focused on thinking; instead, my mind had a clear objective: win. For the sports I cared most about (baseball and golf), my addictive personality drove me to train, in some capacity, year round. I enjoyed feeling myself improve and the confidence the process gave me.

Despite all the work, I wasn't good enough to play sports in college. Almost overnight, I had to figure out how to fill all the time that sports would have normally occupied. That void contributed to a major depressive episode over the summer heading into my sophomore year. When I got back to campus, I was introduced to chewing tobacco and the addiction took hold almost immediately. The buzz temporarily relieved my depression and gave me something to focus on other than all the time I seemed to have to myself.

When I drank or smoked pot, I did it excessively. There was a clear pattern to my substance use: I was trying to numb myself. And as long as I could hide my use enough, I was able to convince myself it was helping. When I was later prescribed stimulant ADHD medication in my early 20's, the addictive foundation was already in place and it didn't take long for me to start abusing amphetamines.

I wanted the prescription to help me focus on work. Initially, the medication seemed to work wonders. It "cured" my depression, allowing me to perform the way I wanted to. But the medication had a shelf-life and the come down pushed me back into a depressive state. To keep the depression at bay, I self-medicated, frequently taking more than I was prescribed. Within a few months, I was on the highest dose of the medication and routinely taking too much.

I became an addict years before I knew I had Bipolar Disorder. Rather than thoroughly address depression with family, friends, and professionals, I took it upon myself to self-medicate in a number of ways. Years of using drugs to feel better predictably made my condition worse. I filled a void with quick fixes. I was trying to induce mania, mistaking it for happiness. Substance abuse became a sport.