Talk It Out 94 members · 85 stories
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As a fair warning, this blog will be dark and personal for me. I understand that most of you won't take this very seriously, since it doesn't effect you or maybe you don't really know me. But I've go something I feel the need to say, and I just can't say it to the ones that need to know.

Well, here goes nothing.

As many of you know, I smoke weed. Yes. Marijuana, pot, kush....Whatever you want to call it. That illegal thing that your mom probably told you she would disown you if you she caught you doing it.

I should go ahead and say this. This isn't a pro-marijuana blog or trying to get people to see from my point of view. This is me, telling somebody things that I can't tell anyone. If that makes any sense.

We all have that thing that we have to hide right? That thing we can't tell anyone?

Also, I'll go ahead and chime in that I'm ADHD as hell, and I have an insomnia issue. Which, ADHD and insomnia kinda go hand in hand. I think too much, and waste hours staring at the ceiling, just thinking instead of sleeping. Keep in mind, I did this before everything. I've done it all my life, probably since before I can even remember.

Before junior high school, I was that bad kid that got suspended from school every few weeks, cussed like a sailor, and probably a full-blown anarchist without even knowing what an anarchist was. That's who I was, and while I still hold a few anarchist views, that isn't me. Something happened in 8th grade, and I'm not at liberty to tell anyone what that was, but it fucked me up. I mean, it REALLY fucked me up.

Not that I realized it at the time. It took years for it to settle in that that event had really done something to me. It made me not have the urge to be the funny, class clown that everyone expected to start messing with the teacher any minute, any more. I kept to myself, and I stopped talking to a lot of people. For better, or for worse.

I discovered My Little Pony around the time the third season had been put on Netflix. So about 2013. It did me a world of good. MLP was a breath of fresh air and when I watching it, I was truly happy. Watching this group of friends come together against all odds, helping each other...God it sent a shock to my brain. I can't tell you how many times I cried over this show, because it made me feel good. I cried because of how happy it made me. Sounds crazy, right? It gave me a hope I never had. The laughter, the good vibes that came off that show, it was infectious. Contagious. And it influenced every good decision I had made during that time.

But that event never left me. Even when I thought it had.

In 2015, depression really started to settle in. This was maybe 2-3 years after that event. It found it's own room in my head, it moved in, and it never left. That's when my struggle more or less began. I was 16 at the time. I wasn't going to be that guy who dragged things out and made them bigger than they were. I saw I had a problem, and like all problems that I have, I set out to fix it. I went to the doctor, and got my first taste of antidepressants. Just like all medicines that I've been on and tried, besides Advil, it stopped working. At the time though, I did feel a bit better after being on them so I just let them go. I kept the pills I didn't take just in case.

Thought it was gone, then it showed up again in a few months. I remember vividly on my way home from work, I remember wanting to run off the road, and just end it. That wasn't just one night that I thought about that. I thought about it, EVERY night. That went on about a month. Everyone around me noticed me changing. I wouldn't talk to anyone, sometimes wouldn't eat, became very angry, very easily. And being angry wasn't like me, as I've always been an easy come, easy go kinda guy.

I had a breakdown in front of my mom. She kept pestering me to tell her. And I did. For an hour, I cried a goddamn river and told her these feelings I had. The urges to just say fuck it all and wrap that vehicle around a tree.

I went to the doctor again. This time, a different medication. Like all medicines, it worked for a solid week. Then things started returning to the way they had been, but worse. Those pills took that urge I had to kill myself, and multiplied it. Instead of just throwing them away, I kept them. And for several days straight, I ate them like they were candy. Just 3-4 at a time...2-3 times a day.

Considering that they were prescribed for once a day, this was bad. Then it fucked me up. During this time, I didn't care. Then that day came where i had to tell somebody. I was hanging on by a thread, and that thread was being eaten away by prescription drugs. After awhile, I found those other pills that I had been in on months before. I took those too. Just like candy, just like clockwork. I think one day, it nearly happened. I'm fairly certain that I was almost dead, and I don't rightfully know what happened. I broke down again, I went to my mom at her place of work. I broke down in front of her, while we were alone. Basically the same thing that has happened months before, only now it was a matter of life and death.

I went cold turkey after that. It sucked dick through a straw. Not but a day after I flushed all of that prescription bullshit down the toilet, I started having spasms. Random outbursts, and twitching. Literally just sit there for a moment, and my head would just jerk to the side. Or my arm would just slap the shit out of my chest for no reason. I was bad off. Very, bad off. And I tried to fix myself the best I could. I'll go ahead and add that nobody but my mom knew of these things, and even then she didn't know all of it. As in, how much of that shit I took.

I started being a little more open about things, and I was starting to be a little more outgoing. Which was odd, considering I'd been damn near a recluse for the past 4-5 years.

Years ago, when I first started hanging out with a friend of mine that I had known since before the event even happened, I was out at his house and he asked if I smoked weed. Of course I told him no. Drugs were bad right?

Well, we had a strong friendship. I didn't mind that he smoked weed around me, and he knew I'd never tell anyone.

So zoom back to around August of 2016. My bad trip with the pills had ended. I still had this weird twitching shit going on, but it was starting to die down and become less noticeable. But the depression was still there, like a dark cloud that hung over me (I hate to be so cheesy, but it's the truth regardless).

I was out at his house, and he had a few buddies out there and they were all smoking and having fun. Not a problem in the world, and I could see it in their faces. They were having genuine fun, without a second thought or hesitation. I wanted to try it. For the sake of having fun just that one night, and not have to worry about anything, I joined in on the circle. We passed blunt after blunt around the table, and I had never felt better in my entire life. It was like what MLP did, made me happy and all that mushy shit, but 500x more.

So, I kept doing it. I made it a routine to go out to his house, with money to throw in, and just get high as a kite and forget about my problems for a night. Now, for all of you who don't know, cannabis does get you high. Yes. But, it's not like it is portrayed in movies. It doesn't give you rainbow vision, or any other shit like that. Scientifically, it lowers your blood pressure. Which, in turn, causes you to relax.

And the crazy part is, it didn't stop working. I did my research about it after I started. I wanted to know everything, including the bad things. But I was shocked to find, despite my best efforts, not a thing bad about it. The only down side was that it costed money. But so do prescriptions, right?

These past few months have been fantastic. I never get down about a thing, I finally sleep at night and keep decent hours. Go to bed around 12-1 in the morning, and wake up around 9-10. And then, waking up refreshed, and ready to take on the world. Even while I was sober.

Now let's jump to the present.

My grandmother found my pipe. She flipped at first, but the next day decided she would hear me out. According to her, there had to be a good reason for a guy like me to be doing such a horrible drug, right?

I told her a lot of things, without the near overdose part. Told her about the depression and the lack of sleep I always I had because I couldn't go to sleep. And then I told her how that little weird ass plant changed all of it.

Long story short, she understood but not the way I wanted her to. She said that it's illegal, and that's why I shouldn't do it. And yeah, she's right. I get busted with it one time, and my ass is grass. No job, no aid for college. She's right. But here is where that was wrong. Tell me, especially those who have similar things going on with depression and whatnot. Does school, or work, or anything like that even make you bat an eye when you'd rather be dead? Like fuck it does.

Marijuana made me care about all of that. It made me want to do school, it helped me be ready for the next day. I could take a few puffs off a bong, and sit down for three hours straight and do homework. And I'm not lying even in the slightest. My grades were A's and B's, I'm excelling at work and about to receive several promotions.

All to thank for 15$-30$ out of my paycheck a week, and I was just as happy and easy going as could be.

Back to my grandmother situation. She said she trusted me not to do it again, and even gave my pipe back to me. It shocked me honestly. I put it up, and tried not to do it again. Now, I make it sound addictive. It's only as addictive as a can of Coke, and that is scientifically proven as well. But like just about everyone else who does it, they aren't addicted to the drug. They are addicted to the way it makes them feel. I'm addicted to being happy. I'm addicted to doing good, and feeling good, and being ready for anything. That's what I'm addicted to.

So, she gave the pipe back and I told I'd quit because she was willing to work with me. That first night, I knew what I was about to get into. I went right back to not being able to sleep. I stayed up until 6 that morning after waking up at 7 the previous morning, and I hadn't done something like that in nearly half a year. I was pissed, cranky, and I could already feel everything coming back to knock me on my ass. That second night, I couldn't do it. I couldn't go back to being miserable and unproductive. Because that's what I had been before marijuana. Miserable and unproductive.

I did it again. Then the next night, and the next. Grandmother was still hot on my ass because of the night she found it. And she confronted me again.

And here is the most saddening part to me. She made jokes about it. She made jokes about me and her going out and smoking weed together. In-between scolding me she made jokes about it. Like it was a game. She even said, if you give me that pipe, I'll put it up. And maybe every now and then I'll let you have a few puffs. Like she was going to make it into an earned privilege or something. Like it was all some sick game. Like a dog, begging for a treat.

And that nearly ruined me. No, I didn't give her the pipe. But I know why she offered that kind of deal. She noticed the difference it made. How different I was when I was on it, and when I was off of it. How I was happy, getting good night's sleep, and on top of the world. And then being back to not talking to anyone, being sad, and keeping to myself. She noticed these things, and I can tell it.

But I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to yell at her, I wanted to cry too. All of that. This isn't a game. This is my life. I wanted to ask her a question, but the soft person inside me didn't want to ask it. I wanted to ask, "Would you rather have me alive and well, here in front of you for you to hold and love? Or, would you rather be bringing a bundle of fake flowers to my grave at the cemetery and wishing that I was still here?"

Because that's what it would have been. That was so close to reality, even now I don't believe it. Would she be making jokes then? Would it have just been a little privileged game then?

No. It wouldn't have.

But now, here's what I'm faced with. Going back to my old ways, of not being able to sleep, and because of that, not being able to focus in school or on the job. But keep the money that I normally would spend on weed. What a plus right?

I have a little bit of money! That'll make up for not being able to sleep, and eventually sinking back down into what I was!

No. Fuck money. I don't need money. The only thing I need, is to be happy. But you know what? I'll try it her way. I'll just suck it up, and go on with life. Do I know what that's like?

I don't know, I've only been sucking it up my entire life. Judging by nearly overdosing on drugs to willfully kill myself, the suck it up method didn't exactly work. And the one thing I did find that worked, is illegal. And now my grandmother thinks I'm just a fucking dope head.

But proof of me not being able to sleep? Well, this got posted at 5AM. We'll see how well I do at work tomorrow, working on only 4 hours of sleep. Assuming I go straight to sleep and not straight to staring at the fucking ceiling.

There's a lot more to all of this that I'm not going to try to get into.

Sorry for this out of the blue rant guys and I promise it won't be a regular thing. Probably just a one time thing, because I don't like being stuck in my feelings. But if there's one thing I've ever learned in life when it comes to problems or bad experiences: The only thing worse than everyone knowing, is nobody knowing.

Love you guys, stay safe out there. Wherever you are.

5846582 Marihuana is pretty harmless, but still, it can dictate your life. My best friend smoked weed every evening so he could go to sleep. I didn't have a problem with it. It was his life, and I had no right to tell him what to do with it.

Long story short, he got in some financial difficulties. When his income shortened, he still kept up his addiction. Many promises were made, and I trusted him unconditionally because he was my best friend. That was 6 years ago, and he still owes me over 3 grand today.

He's part of the reason why I'm here all the days instead of out in the real world with people. If you can't trust a best friend, why trust anyone at all?

Obviously, marijuana wasn't the only thing to blame in this story, but it did play a major part. He spent way more on it than what he owes me. Perhaps, if he wasn't doing it, things could be different, and we'd still be friends.

5846582 To make a small point here. You say you have ADHD and insomnia right? Well, there's actually a way you can get legal marijuana for a small fee (at least I think it costs?). If you were to go to a specialist and explain your situation, the doctor can legally write up a prescription for legal marijuana. It's been proven to work for cases like yours. An old friend of mine has ADHD and Major Depression Disorder. He was prescribed a card that he'd use to legally obtain his fix about 2× a month and it'd last him a month each time. That's just something to look into if I were you. Plus if your Grandma saw the positives outweigh the negatives, she'd probably let you continue.

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5846636 I guess the difference between me and your friend would be that I've always been careful with it. I always make sure that I had enough money for bills and food for the week etc. That money afterwards was the money I used.

5846664 I've thought about it, but could I really though? It's a schedule II drug here, and people get arrested for it all the time.

5846880 It also depends on what state your in too. In some states it's still Illegal. But if it is legal in your state, then you shouldn't have issues with law enforcement.

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5847834 I did a little bit of digging, and it seems to me that it is flat illegal here. No hope at all for it here. I mean, I guess I'll just have to get over it but I have a feeling that all of this isn't don't yet and I'm dreading every second.

5848311 Well, I have faith in you my friend in that you will eventually find a solution to your worries. :twilightsmile:

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5848695 Thanks for the support:twilightsmile: I've come this far, I'm not sure why I thought it was over.

5848952 Well, so long as you keep fighting this...I'm sure things will work out. :pinkiesmile:

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5848964 I hope so. Thanks again

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