In the April 10 issue of The Maneater, Kristen Powers wrote a column condemning the use of drugs as “study aids.”
She wrote of its supposed illusionary effectiveness and offered up alternatives that are as bad as a D.A.R.E. officer telling me to go ice-skate on a Friday night instead of partying.
I’ve never heard someone say, “I don’t want to take Adderall, but I don’t have any other options.” People who like taking Adderall aren’t going to switch to chewing gum.
I will neither confirm nor deny using the little blue friend known as Adderall to get through the sometimes dark and difficult times of studying. But I will tell you how taking it would go down, hypothetically. If O.J. can give his hypothetical confession then so can I.
If I took Adderall, I’d enjoy some of the most productive hours of my life — placebo-effect or not. Just 30 minutes after ingesting the stimulant (not snorting – that shit’s sketchy), my thoughts of “I’ll do it later” and “there’s too much on my plate” would be replaced with “now now now” and “work work work.”
The drug would make me a scholastic workhorse. If I had Adderall’s energy running through my veins with strength caffeine could never match, anything would be possible. The most monotonous or time-consuming tasks couldn’t stand in my way.
Transcribing an hour-long interview – no problem. Reading six chapters of political science – consider it done.
If I took Adderall, nothing would feel like work. I’d have a genuine interest in tasks I’d otherwise find repulsive. I’d be excited to meticulously transcribe an hour’s worth of quotes. Memorizing each article and section of the U.S. Constitution would be a joyous occasion.
A popular saying is “Love your work and it’ll love you back.” Adderall could create this relationship between any subject and I, although it might be more of a temporary lust than a long-term relationship.
If I took Adderall, the rate at which I’d do all this would be astounding. What might usually take three hours to complete would only take one. I’d jump from task to task like Dr. Manhattan in “Watchmen” without turning blue or having a dozen versions of me at one time.
If I took Adderall, I’d feel like Calvin Johnson running routes with a high-school cornerback covering me. I’d feel like Jimi Hendrix playing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” on the guitar.
“Give me something more difficult,” I’d yell.
If I took Adderall, I could deal with the side effects. I could deal with the dry mouth, constant thirst and persistent jitters. I could even deal with a crucial part of my anatomy shrinking to a size I haven’t seen since I was 10 years old.
Most importantly, if I took Adderall, I wouldn’t feel any guilt for doing so.
A common argument against using the drug is that it’s not really you putting out the work; it’s the Adderall. This simply isn’t true.
It wasn’t the LSD that created “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.” It was Hunter S. Thompson. His drug of choice did open up his mind in a unique way and lead to experiences he might have not have found otherwise. But he was still a damn good writer. Not every LSD user cranks out extraordinary pieces of literature.
Adderall is the same way: it’s a facilitator and not a catalyst.
If I were a lazy piece of shit, I wouldn’t turn into a star pupil. Instead, I’d spend my time on the drug reading Ke$ha’s Wikipedia page. Adderall wouldn’t get my priorities straight; it would only help me focus on whatever they are.
If I took Adderall, I’d tell you how great it is. I’d tell you to go out and get some as soon as possible, but I’d rather let you decide for yourself. After all, this is only hypothetical.
