A Life of Grey...
Citation: BuddhasDisciple. "A Life of Grey...: An Experience with Cannabis (exp80782)". Erowid.org. Feb 11, 2017. erowid.org/exp/80782
Ever since I could remember I was into Bob Marley and the whole idea of smoking marijuana. I used to pride myself on wearing shirts where the dreadlocked Rasta was portrayed sitting around toking a spliff or rolling a joint with that characteristic “Every ting gonna be alright mon” grin on his face. I had no sources for the stuff but I had this sense that I wanted to get high and that, in time, I’d find someone to give me the opportunity.
I remember the first few times I was nervous as hell, “what would this stuff do to me?”, “would I lose control or become an addict?” I would hang out with friends and get butterflys in my insides when watching as they packed up a pipe with that green plant material and then pass to me. I huffed and I puffed on this stuff on two or three different occasions to no avail and felt left out. I wasn’t going to stop trying, and one day in the fall of 96’ (I was 16) a buddy of mine invited me over to share a dime bag after his parents fell asleep. Needless to say, I obliged and daydreamed about this all day in my class, imagining that this would be my first “Bob Marley” moment where “everything would be alright.”
Since this is about my love affair and addiction with marijuana I won’t go into the details of that first real high, but I will say it blew my mind and plummeted me into a whirlwind 5 or six years of nonstop marijuana smoking, lies, money wasted and moments where I thought I was going insane. I started using daily, and not just once but several times a day until it seemed like all I did was get high. I had what my friends and I called “The summer that wasn’t” because we didn’t remember it because we spent it in a haze of pot smoke. All we did was wake and bake, meet others to get high with and then go driving around looking for more bags. I spent close to 9000 dollars when this whole escapade was over with, and I have nothing to show for it but a mind that is probably messed up from all the years I spent locked away in a personal hell while under the influence of this plant.
The worst thing about marijuana for me was how it drove me deeper into myself and took me to dark and lonely places that make me shudder to think about even now. I did a lot of smoking alone
I did a lot of smoking alone
and when I did I felt like a man out in the cold, looking into a shop front window where normal people gather in the warmth to do normal things. Outside it’s gray, windy and drizzling and inside there’s a soft glow that makes me think of the warmth and comfort of a Christmas Eve by the hearth with family, a nice cozy fire crackling in the background. Think black and white newsprint contrasted with a Thomas Kinkade painting to get the gist of this image. I see myself standing out in the cold, alone and chilled to the bone. This is what marijuana did to me, it took me to a place where I was on the outside looking in, and now at almost 30 years old I’m still a mess.
I quit college because of this stuff, I lost opportunities and money because of it. At one point I forgot what it was like to feel sober anymore, and I broke down and cried. “God, give me the strength to stop this stuff.” Did I even believe in God? I don’t know, but I know I was at my wits end and crying out for salvation. Somehow, some way, I finally snuffed out my last joint, threw away my pipes and stopped looking for bags.
I don’t smoke pot anymore but as I said, I’m still a mess. I’m afraid of people, I feel alone and isolated and sometimes I dream of smoking a joint, especially after I smell that sweet aroma wafting from a car or an apartment in this college town I now reside in. Smelling the herb brings me back and makes me think of smoking again, but thinking of how it made me felt brings me to my senses. Marijuana let me down, but don’t all drugs do that? Isn’t marijuana just another succubus or siren that entices weak souls like myself with empty promises only to wreck us on some forgotten shoal? Now I’m free of this stuff but fighting a Kratom addiction.
I don’t regret anything I have done, but neither do I wish to repeat it. This stuff is not just safe and simple, it took me down dark alleys with funhouse mirrors that distorted my perception on myself, others and the world around me. After having been a junky myself I have compassion for those who go down the same path as I did and respect for people like my brother who saw what it did to me and said “no” for life. May all who read this be well and be safe.
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