What is Adderall and How Long Does It Last?
Adderall is a psychostimulant and powerful prescription that is taken by over 40 million Americans at the time of writing this blog post. It is very dangerous, and I’ve overcome vast struggles with the drug myself. “How long does Adderall Last?” is a very common question newbies typically ask before taking the drug. It typically lasts for 12-16 hours if you don’t have a tolerance. The more frequently you take it, however, the less of an effect it will have on the user, and the shorter it will last.
Adderall makes you feel like a freakin’ king, I’ll give it that much. You feel amazing while you’re on it, and then you feel awful when it wears off.
How to get Adderall to Last Longer
- Take breaks-the less you take it, the stronger it’ll be, the longer it will last.
- Take N-Acetyl L-Tyrosine on your off days. It is the amino acid that helps to create dopamine and, therefore, will help your levels to recover faster.
*And now for the meat of this blog post…
The bottom part of this post will focus on the issues that Adderall because of just how long Adderall lasts. Read the chapters though, it gives you a first-hand look at what Adderall addiction is like, and there’s plenty in there of me not being able to sleep. You’ll be able to read the next chapter at the link at the bottom of this blog post. You need a doctor’s prescription to get Adderall and even then don’t take it as it’s very dangerous.
After the unusual confrontation at lunch, as well as the previous events that played out in my household concerning my father, the next few days seemed to progress smoothly, and I continued to make small talk with my new friend Eric. Still stressed out about the upcoming SAT, and fighting the mental strain arguing against my father to take SAT prep classes was putting on me, I knew I needed a serious study regiment if I was going to make it through the entire SAT test.
I figured a few days rest could do me some good, and that I would be completely refreshed once I got to my preparation class (the argument with my father proved useless, as I had nothing left to say.) A few days turned into a few weeks of relaxation and of doing little to no schoolwork, and a few weeks into a full month until I was in my last two weeks of SAT classes and was only a short three weeks away from taking the actual SAT test.
It wasn’t until after the fourth period the next day that the SAT test was even mentioned. Exhausted by my Asian SAT prep teacher’s overwhelming efforts to instill a decent work ethic into us and more stressed out than ever about the upcoming exam, I plopped my body down into my desk, and dropped my SAT book on the floor by the end of the week, burnt out and done with the overprotective parenting and extra strenuous schoolwork I was being forced to endure.
The thud from the book made an audience larger than had been expected, causing several nosy students as well as the teacher to direct their glance at me. It was then that Eric came through the door, assumed his seat at the desk right next to mine, and started off with his usual nonsense conversation starters. “How’s it goin’, Steve?” He said. “Good, good” I replied with a casual glance on my face. “Some crazy stuff happened yesterday though, got kind of freaked out.” He looked at me with a strange glance that made it seem like he actually cared, although I knew he was just being polite. “Like what?” He asked.
I paused before turning fully to my right and starting to tell the whole story. “Alright so one of my friends came up to me a few days ago, he seemed really agitated and fidgety, but he was getting all his work done like it was nothing. He even said he was having fun doing it.” I said. “So what’s new about that, AP geeks do that kind of stuff all the time,” he said. “I know” I replied, “but most of them do it sober-minded right? I mean this kid was like a new brand of geek.”
I said. “I don’t understand” he responded, seeming confused. I tried my best to clear up what I was saying and eventually resorted to the straightforward approach rather than hinting at it. “Okay, I’ll just come right out and say it. After I asked what was wrong with my friend, he told me he had just snorted some Ritalin.” I tried to maintain a straight face while saying this, and to not portray a look of worry.
“Whoa! The kid actually snorted it, I mean I’ve heard of kids doing that from TV ads, but I didn’t know it stretched as far as high school kids doing that stuff” he replied, in readily apparent shock. “Wait, so you know what Ritalin is because from the way it looked I’m pretty sure Ritalin is just street for cocaine. Am I right?” I said. He gave me a strange look and then started laughing hysterically “no not at all” he said in an exuberant tone while now trying to resist the urge to laugh, most likely at my naivety. “It’s just some medication that kids who can’t focus take. Apparently in normal kids though it makes them hyper-focused.”
I couldn’t seem to wipe the look of astonishment off my face at this point, nor pick my jaw up apparently, because it wasn’t long before our teacher noticed the enthusiasm present and said: “Stephen, eyes up front please.” I hungered to continue the conversation, and so I waited for the teacher to actually face the electronic board this time before asking more questions.
Eric tapped me on the shoulder as soon as the coast was clear, and the teacher was distracted to hopefully resume our conversation that he now seemed extremely excited about. “Yeah but um, if your friend is taking that stuff it would explain why he was doing all his work so fast.” He said. “How do you know all this stuff about it, I mean, I thought this was something only a select few kids knew about,” I replied.
He shook his head in laughter, “No, not at all. Actually, it’s pretty common. In fact, if you held up a pill right now and said five bucks each, I bet at least six kids would come running after you with fistfuls of cash.” “Is it dangerous?” I asked, seriously considering trying to get my hands on that stuff at this point, at least just once for my SAT (the lie that keeps every addict going and going until they really can’t do it “just one more time”). “No, not really” he replied uneasily. “I mean if you abuse it then you are absolutely screwed, but if you just manage to take it once in a blue moon, then it will help you a lot more than it will hurt you.”
I had just managed to keep my laughter and excitement under control but had finally reached my breaking point when he started describing other types of drugs in the same category. He started explaining about Adderall, Dexedrine, Desoxyn, and almost other medication of the like you can think of. “If you don’t believe me here,” he said. He passed me his phone and I immediately started to look up what he was saying. To my surprise, most of it was incredibly accurate. “Man, I wish I could just get my hands on some Adderall for the SAT,” I said jokingly and a little louder than I otherwise would’ve liked to.
Immediately Eric glared at me with a look of astonishment and almost paranoia before he said “I have Adderall, I can um” there was a small pause. “I can probably get you some if you want, I’ll give you one for five dollars.” As soon as the words left his mouth, I knew he wasn’t really a mechanic, and that I was going to truly get a taste of the dark side of education.
The adrenaline rush began to flow through my body in unison with the exact moment the words left his mouth. “Really, just like that,” I asked, still in shock over how simply it had actually happened. “Yeah, of course,” he said, “just give me your number, since the bell’s about to ring, and we’ll talk about it.” I passed my phone over, and as anxious as I was, my curiosity and riskiness got the better of me, and I received his number as such.
The bell rang and I left the classroom feeling no other emotion but extreme excitement. I walked home with my little brother, not saying a single word about the entire conversation, or about the extremely unusual events that had occurred these past few days. I immediately went home, got on my laptop, and started researching Adderall. I looked up everything, from side effects to initial effects, to chemical composition, and all the way through what would happen if I got caught with it in my possession.
I liked what I found as well as many user reviews, especially the ones that read “the first time on Adderall.” The way people described it, it sounded like the best day of your life combined with nearly overbearing motivation, and by the time I had finished reading the articles, and psyching myself up for the great journey I was about to embark on, I was hooked on the idea of getting the drug.
Finishing my research session, I sat down in my room and dug through my backpack, searching through everything frantically to find my phone. I finally found it, searched through my contacts for Eric’s number, and texted him while trying to keep my hand from shaking just enough to properly touch the buttons. I typed in “So five dollars right?” and sent the text message. Minutes later, he responded with “okay, I guess you do want some, how many?” I scratched my head, thinking about how many I really needed “I actually need two” I said “one to study and one to take the test with. And um, I read online that they have an instant release type and an extended release type. Do you have any instant release?” I asked.
He responded briefly with “yeah.” With the anxiety building up in my throat, I responded: “Alright, can I have one instant and one extended release.” He replied “yeah.” I turned off my phone, unsure as to what was meant by the extreme brevity of his later responses, yet ambitious and extremely excited about a brand new experience, something I had never done before, and something that would hopefully change my life for the better.
The fourth hour seemed to take extra long to come, but by the time it arrived, and Eric sat down in his desk, I already had my wallet in hand with money ready to go. “I didn’t bring it,” he said, looking me in the eye in suspicion. “What!” I said in shock. “Why?” He looked at me with an expression of disgust. “It’s just. I mean, why are you in this class, you know, with a bunch of freshmen.” I looked at him in utter confusion and present anger “What does that have to do with the Adderall!” I screamed at him. He stared at the ground and sighed, looking extremely disorganized in thought. “Okay, I’m going to just come right out and say it. Are you a nark?” He stated, raising one eyebrow. “A what?” I asked, wondering if Eric was actually going to be of any use to me at all and if he was the outlet for success I had thought he was going to be. “Like are you an undercover cop.”
He said. “What no, why?” I replied, infuriated at the childish accusation. “It’s just that” he started off “it’s just that you’re the only upperclassman in journalism, and the way you brought up Adderall yesterday was so calm, it almost seemed like it was scripted.” I glanced at the floor and tried to laugh off my frustration, saying “buddy, I’m not a nark, far from it. The only reason I want this drug is to do better on the SAT, and then I doubt I’ll ever use it again.” He nodded, seeming slightly assured at my comment. “How can I know for sure though,” he said. I paused for a moment, trying to think of a viable argument. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this one. Don’t worry; it’ll all be over tomorrow.” I told him, trying to calm what I could tell was a growing apprehension. “Alright, I guess I’ll actually give it a shot this time,” he said, finally seeming somewhat sincere.
“What lunch period do you have so we can do this as early as possible?” I asked. “I have B lunch.”(At our school, the lunch schedule was stretched into four different periods due to a large number of students accounted). “Alright that’s cool; I have B lunch too, probably because we have the same fourth hour,” he said. “Yeah,” I said, looking at him awkwardly, and trying to maintain my composure, and not allow him to get a glimpse of how anxious I really was. “Sounds good, I sit on the stool right by the vending machines, so just come find me,” he said. “And I’ll bring it tomorrow for sure this time” he added, although still looking a bit uneasy about the entire ordeal. I reached into my back pocket, pulled out my wallet, and brought out two crisp five dollar bills, paper-clipped together in a neat stack. “Just so you’ll feel better, and won’t be paranoid that I’m some kind of police informant” he chuckled a little “Here” I said, handing him the money and saying “I’ll pay you up front, but you’d better really have this stuff and not just be trying to get a rise out of me here.”
I said. His eyes lit up, and I knew he was serious when he said: “I’ll have it to you at lunch tomorrow.”
That night seemingly lasted an eternity, and with everything hopefully ready to go, and the SAT only ten days away, I was worried. I finally fell asleep around midnight and awoke the next morning with some excitement under my breath. Lunch couldn’t come fast enough, and soon Eric signaled me over towards the vending machines. “Here you go,” he said before he handed me a white, folded, and sealed envelope with what he said had two pills in it, one IR, and one XR. I walked over calmly and sat down at my table full of friends, and everyone was seemingly convinced that my face looked sketchy, most likely because I portrayed paranoia in my voice and body language.
“Hey, dude, did you get those study guides for the SAT” my friend Sebastian called over from the corner as I noticed that he recognized what a drug deal looked like from a mile away. “Yeah, I got the study guides” I winked, trying not to make it obvious to my friends that I was doing something out of the ordinary.
I casually talked to my friends, who continuously asked what was going on, and why I seemed so happy. “No reason,” I said, brushing off the comments. The new girl who had been sitting with us finally spoke up after remaining silent and only speaking to one kid at a time. “What did you do?” She said in a patronizing tone. “What are you even talking about?” I said, playing dumb and acting like I had done nothing wrong. “It’s nothing, you just look extremely paranoid.” She replied. My eyes got wider, and I tried to stare at the floor to hide my blush. The lunch bell rang and soon the girl walked away, saying “My name’s Camila by the way” and throwing a smile.
My face blushed, and I wasn’t sure if it was having drugs on me or if the new girl’s comments were having some effect on me. Soon, my heart began to pound faster, however, and I ditched my friends, ran to the bathroom, and ripped open the sealed envelope. To my surprise, it actually contained what I had asked; one pink Adderall, a circular pill that was perfect for me to break and study with, and a large capsule that read “Adderall XR” along the side of it, perfect for taking the test, exactly what I needed, and my ticket to the full ride scholarship and proper freedom I had been longing for.
The rest of the day seemed to go by slower with each passing class, and when I finally got home, I transferred the pills from the crumpled up envelope to a pouch that I had used to store my rosary. I placed it underneath one of the cabinets in my room, rubber banded to a large wad of cash that my grandparents had given me as a birthday present the previous year. I suddenly realized how naïve, obvious, and uneducated of a hiding place it was once nightfall came, and the loud creak of my door opening both awoke me and sparked fear in my chest.
My mother turned on the light, saying “Stephen, your father’s going away on a business vacation this weekend.” I squinted and wiped at my watery eyes. “I’m gonna go ahead and borrow a few twenties okay.” “Okay,” I said calmly as I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Suddenly the thought hit me, and I sprung up from my sleeping pose, quickly grabbing the wad of cash before my mother could envision the black pouch strapped to it. “Here mom,” I said, handing her a handful of twenty dollar bills before she nodded and left the room calmly.
The door closed with the familiar creek I had grown accustomed to, and my heart rate began to simmer down. I peeked out the window, making sure my father’s truck had left and my mother’s door was closed before quickly opening my closet and transferring my pills to underneath the bookshelf in the back of my closet. I shut the closet door and dragged my slightly fatigued body back to sleep, noticing that it was just before three in the morning.
Three hours later, my alarm sounded for school. I opened my closet door and felt underneath my bookshelf with my hand, giving myself reassurance that the pills were still present and still fully intact. I stuffed the pouch into my jeans pocket and darted off to school in full conscious awareness that it was the last day of my SAT prep class, and the last time I could say I had never taken a drug before. The practice test finally arrived, and I excused myself to the restroom, pulled out my pouch, and bit a small piece of the tablet off the pill, and swallowing it with a giant gulp from the bathroom sink, ingested the drug.
I walked back into the room just as the teacher was finishing passing out the tests. I waited ten minutes, then fifteen, and finally after twenty minutes when nothing had yet happened, I began to lose hope. “Well there goes my shot at getting a good score,” I thought to myself. The teacher passed out spare pencils, and it wasn’t until I looked up at a poem on the board, that something was different-and then, I felt it. The room turned golden, and clean energy centered in the form of adrenaline strength flooded my entire body. “Open your test booklets, you may begin your exam,” said our teacher.
The first section was the essay. I had always been an above average essay writer, but it had always taken me some time to come up with a decent topic and to form a sophisticated opinion. I picked up my pencil and began to write, writing down anything and everything that came to mind. The sentences began to flow perfectly, and it was as if my hand had a mind of its own and I had unlocked a new portion of my mind that lay dormant all my life. The physical stimulation started to take full effect. Both my legs shook and bounced up and down in relative unison to my left hand, which was now drumming on the desk, getting louder with each passing moment.
My essay was finished and perfected in less than ten minutes. I placed the pencil in my test booklet, put my hands behind my head, and leaned my head back in my chair, watching in hysteria as the rest of my class scratched their heads and tried to scrape together the final words of their essay in the allotted time.
The majority of the test continued in much the same fashion, and after I had finished through the first eight of the tests ten sections, I started to feel like my old self again. My mind was still slightly wired, and I attributed this to some sort of beginner’s luck (it later actually turned out to be a carryover effect common among first-time users taking relatively low doses.) I dragged myself through the rest of the exam and walked home fully conscious of what had just occurred, still slightly pumped and euphoric, and with new visualization, a type of tunnel vision for my academic career that remained long after the effects of the drug was ceased.
End of Excerpt…
So How Long Does Adderall Really Last?
Based on my own personal experiences with Adderall, the question of how long does Adderall last has an answer of “12-16 hours depending on the user’s tolerance level.” The less you take it, the longer it will last, and the stronger it will be.
Adderall tends to last 12-16 hours, as it is an amp, and therefore acts on dopamine, a powerful wakefulness neurotransmitter that tends to stick around once it is increased.