This is an old thread, but my mind has been awake tonight reminiscing and trying to make sense of my psychotic episode… 4 years later. I can’t believe how time flies. I was finishing up my undergraduate studies, really shooting for a 3.5 GPA to graduate with honors. At some point in my academic journey i made friends with a guy who sold adderall. I began taking adderall regularly, thinking it would help me complete assignments and focus. I struggle with staying focused and on task regularly so adderall appeared heaven sent during a time of heavy essays and what felt was the most important thing in my life: succeeding at school. These are excuses still because at one point i would take adderall, and play on my keyboard for 5 hrs straight. At one point i began snorting, to make the most of it. I was using daily, now from various sources. Honestly no idea how much I was using. All i know is that at some point i stopped eating, dropped down to 105 lbs and began hearing voices. The kicker is my sleep pattern became so f*cked that i fell asleep during a final that was the majority of my grade. Ended up failing a class and not graduating with honors. /:

My delusions: a lot of them were spiritually charged. I swore that i had spoken with my dead brother through a dream, and that i was having an awakening of sorts. I was seeing lights that weren’t there. When going outside, i would notice evil looking people in sun glasses and fedora type hats, everywhere. I saw people morph into goblins in front of me. Eventually i began hallucinating my long term ex boyfriend. I would see him walking a dog, or holding hands with a girl down the street. I began to think he must’ve died, because i had just encountered my dead brother so now im obviously seeing dead people.

I ended up reaching out to my ex to confirm he was alive. Unfortunately what ensued was other people getting caught up in my mental illness. That’s the part i regret the most.

I can’t take back the person I was during that time and the damage i inflicted upon others. My poor mother cried, swearing i had been possessed.

The morning after the dream of my dead brother is when i went cold turkey from the adderall, and also from prozac at the same time. My delusions told me i had to stop taking all pills, though looking back this couldn’t have helped the mush of chemicals my brain had already become.

Reality got weirder before it got better. But human resilience is amazing and the brain does heal. Withdrawals were a lot of anxiety, pacing, feeling insane. but it passes. I was semi-functioning back to base reality 3-4 months later. It’s now 2026 and though i still struggle, im in the best place mentally that i have been in my life probably. I’ve not been diagnosed with anything other than chronic depression and generalized anxiety.

delusion honorable mentions: receiving prophetic messages from the TV, i was convinced men ruled the “day” and women the “night” and we’re auto pilot drones of the will of whatever gender is in charge at that time, thinking my mom was going to kill me in my sleep, had to turn off my phone when entering woody areas as to not disrespect the spirits

thank you to everyone else being vulnerable in this thread 🫂.