So here’s the deal. I smoke pot. A lot. Almost all day every day. It’s been a habit for years. And it’s becoming something I don’t even enjoy anymore. It’s merely something to do. Kind of like why I smoked cigarettes for a decade. August 7th will mark 5 years since I’ve touched a cigarette, and I know myself well enough to definitively say I’ll never go back. But the gargantuan amount of ganja I’ve smoked since then is another story.
It’s to the point where it’s become an aesthetic of mine. It sounds so stupid and pretentious to say, but there are people whose branding online solely consists on the fact that they smoke pot. Rare, but it exists. Though I wouldn’t classify pot-smoking as my “brand,” there’s just something about me getting home after a long day of work, lighting up and letting the world roll off my shoulders. It makes me feel cool. It makes me feel like I have something to look forward to, sad as that sounds. But I know a majority of it has to do with the routine. The pick, grind, shuffle out, roll up, light up, zone out. I’m getting to experience an oral fixation without inhaling actual tobacco. But chasing this high is feeling more and more like it’s coming at the expense of my very soul.
I know who I am without pot. I see it every day. But I keep making the choice when I’m alone with myself to do nothing but be stoned on the couch. It’s getting ridiculous, and it happens every day. It’s like I have no idea how to stop, despite wanting to and knowing I should. I’ve gone long periods without it before, and I can’t seem to find the place that will make me do that again. I want to so badly. But something inside keeps telling me I won’t do it. That I’ll always let myself down. That I’m not worth doing something good for. It’s a horrible feeling. It’s something I’ve carried with me my entire life. It’s something that keeps resurfacing no matter how many times I think I’ve conquered it.
I’ve been wrestling with a feeling that “as soon as I” do something, then “X will happen.” And for a very long time, there’s been one thing that I’ve wanted to happen. But that’s beginning to go away more and more. I’m starting to think I was just in denial for years. Maybe delusional. Maybe just flat out crazy. I’m still not sure, but I’m feeling less and less like I want to keep holding a ticket for a ride that’s already set out on its maiden voyage. It won’t come back to port. It’s happy. It wasn’t going to wait for me to begin with.
I think for a very long time, I’d cloud up my mind with pot so I won’t have to think about that. I’d get to live in my happy fantasies where I could control my reactions and fit all the mysticism about life into a perfectly suitable feeling. When the smoke would clear and I’d be back in my clear-headed mind, all I’d want to do was go back to that world. It was always there for me. It’s become somewhat of a friend. But I can’t visit it anymore. It’s not helping me grow, it’s just allowing me to stagnate. I know I should stop. I know I want to stop. There’s a lot of things I want to stop. I haven’t tried it this way. Perhaps it’s time I should.
My plan is to stop using drugs for the entirety of June. That’s thirty days with a clear head. It seems doable. I’ve done it before. And I know I can do it again. But what happens after those thirty days? I’d usually just go right back to where I was, not a care in the world for the fact that I just accomplished something I promised myself. No, it’s right back to where I started because good enough is good enough for me. I did what I set out to do, there’s no need to continue on.
But what if I did? What if this time I just kept going with the thirty days? Why make an arbitrary number the sole reason to do something? Why can’t I just do it for me?
It’s why I’m also planning to publish something here for the next thirty days. I want to document how I feel. I want a log of what I’m going through and see what comes up in my clear mind. It may not be pretty. I may not even do it for all thirty days. But maybe I will. Maybe I’ll find something worth keeping me back down on earth instead of wanting to jump on my rocket and head back to the clouds.
I think as long as I’m wishing for the impossible to happen, I can work on myself in the meantime. June Renew: Leave your addictions behind for thirty days and beyond.
I hope you’ll join me on this journey.
Let’s see where it goes.
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