I did well yesterday. But I guess it all depends on what you decide is progress. I did smoke. Twice. But, as I was leaving, I was presented the choice to grab some shit to take back to the house, or to opt to exercise my control. I chose the latter.
It’s 5 in the morning and I wish I had something to smoke. However, it’s rather strange because don’t regret not bringing a small stash. Part of me is happy I stuck to my guns. It’s there. It’s not like it’s going anywhere. Control, baby, control.
What am I suppose to answer when you ask me if I’m still smoking?
You’ve threatened to leave me and take my child away. Yet, what have I done wrong? I smoke. I smoke and you don’t even know about it. I’m high just about all the time when I can. And yes, I’m around you sometimes.
But what have I done? I don’t know, it the last week two months I’ve gotten licensed by the state for financial planning; I’ve done everything you’ve asked when you needed help with baby, the household, the finances. I bonded with the baby. She knows me now. I just dropped an $11,000 check into the bank account, not counting the regular salary that is enough for the mortgage, car, student loans, and everything else. I have another $23,000 check coming. I rebalanced my portfolio (and am earning over 40% since the beginning of the year.) I’ve updated my life insurance policies.
How’s the smoking thing going? Well, do you want the truth or the lie? The lie, “oh, I’m handling” and “its going fine” makes you leave me alone. Even more, you tell me you’re proud of me. But, what is my alternative. Did you ever think of how the conversation would go if I answered with the truth? ”Not good at all. I’ve been trying to quit, got down to once a day. Even did a good job keeping it away from the house for a while. Now it’s found its way back. I’ve been smoking 2-3 times a day sometimes. I even smoke out back. I’ll try again, but I don’t know if I can quit”. What kind of response would that have elicited?
I had to lie. It keeps the peace.
At the end of July my wife discovers my doctor’s note for medical marijuana. My dumbass left it in the car and she happened to find it. She asks why I have it and, “more importantly where’s the doctor so I can get him fired”. I explain to her that I’m tired of trying to call random people to connect in random places. I’m too old for that. But I assured her that it was expiring.
Then I renewed it in August.
In October, 2 weeks before the baby was born, she finds my stash and leaves it on the dining room table. When I get home she tells me there’s something on the table for me. I walk by and my face is stuck in the “Oh shit” mode. She starts crying and confronts me on lying to her (she found my bubbler and I told her I was holding it for a friend); then proceeds to let me know that the baby will not grow up in such a household and that she has no problem taking her and leaving.
In a couple of hours I will have made it to the 24 hour mark. I’m I think I’m going strong. However, I’m out of the tincture. Used the rest of it this morning. Gave some to Tim yesterday and he said he felt the effects mildly. After some discussion, we decided that we were not going to administer it to his dad just yet. It’s an option if things get worse, but not now.
I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. I keep telling myself this. First step is the first 24 hours. Next is the first 3 days. I think I should be home free if I make it that far.
So I get to put some of the knowledge I have to good use. My buddy’s dad has stage 4 lung cancer and is having trouble keeping food down. They’ve tried just about everything. And he asks me if there is a way to brew marijuana in a tea and maybe it’ll stimulate his appetite and help keep his food down. So I do research. No luck on the tea. I do find links to a milk drink derivative call bhang and a tincture. Opted for the tincture.
Spent all morning getting ingredients and cooking. I just tried some. I like it. It seems to work for me, but then again I’m biased. I will have my buddy over and he can try some and report the effects to me.
For those interested, here’s a link to the recipe. http://boards.cannabis.com/concentrates/58414-definitive-green-dragon-cannabis-tincture.html
Okay, so it gets back to the point where we light up in a parking lot. Thought I was beyond that, apparently I’m not. Ridiculous. So I’m done, again. Finish the last of what I had. Trying to get rid of the bubbler, again, and focussing on the notion that I’m ready to stop. I’m ready to break free. I don’t need to be high every time I do something.
The Memorial yesterday for my colleague was beautiful. Lots of people saying great things about a man who died too young. He wasn’t but 22 years older than I. Again, I don’t kid myself of mortality, even though most people think I’m too young to even think about it.
I need to focus on being. On existing free from this hell.
I’m not a stupid person. I’m highly educated with a lot of life experience. I used to be very disciplined, yet this is the one area in life that has me beat.
I’m not stupid. I know all this smoking is not good for my body. I know it more than the next person. I don’t believe I’m that special. Just because I take care of myself, exercise everyday and eat right, doesn’t mean I can avoid the ills of cancer or emphysema or who knows what else. I have this horrid image of me drooling over myself because of some terminal illness that has taken over my body. Even worse, the image includes my wife by my side taking care of me, but deep down inside I know she feels anger like no other because I brought it on to myself.
I want to find the path again.
“What this?” my wife asks me. About 30 seconds before she does, I realized she was gonna go through my purse and find my pipe. Or at least the pipe I borrowed. Not realizing it, I asked her to help me look for my cell phone. When she suggested I look in my bag, I responded that I had. She’s known me to overlook things, even when I say I have looked. When she asked, “What’s this?” I already knew what she was holding.
And I lied. I hate lying to my wife. But I hate dealing with bullshit, especially stuff that would upset a pregnant lady. Don’t upset the pregnant lady. Of course the follow up questions about whether I’m still smoking. Again, lied. It feels like I’m cheating, having the run around in secrecy from the wife. I hate it. I hate lying to her. I hate the fact that this is what it’s gotten to.
DNA is important. Must know what works for you. Sativa or Indica? Right now I can barely think. Sensational body high. Medicated, if you will. Should not be giving lectures and shit while smoking the indica. Sativa on the other hand, lots of thinking going on. Mind high.
Less smoke. Two puffs. If I make it 24 hours, I think I can get away with 1 puff. Then, no puff.
Okay, I’ve made it 24 hours away from the weed. I think I made it about 48 hours without caffeine. Last time I drank was at the wedding, so that makes it 39 hours or so without alcohol. I can do just fine without the lattter. The former two is getting questionable. I had a half decaf half regular coffee this morning. It helped get me going, but didn’t get me hyped up. Which is fine. I’ll try the same tomorrow and slowly edge off. I think the same goes with the herb. If I stop all of a sudden, I’m afraid the body might fight too hard. Cold turkey works for some, causes heart attacks in others. Also, I’ve had this weird cramping in the region near my heart, which worries me. I feel it at random times, but most often after I smoke. I have a doctor’s appointment at 3:30 today.
This entire morning was a fight. The 9 o’ clock hour seemed to take half a day to pass. Just needed to get to this point. And now I’m here. 24 hours. Now what? The thoughts don’t go away. Matter of fact, they get stronger. I need to distract myself, physically and mentally. This is where a bunch of guards in white lab coats would do wonders to keep me in check. I even called the dispensary not half an hour ago to check their menu. “You guys get any more of that Super Sour Diesel?”.
Oh, and even worse, it’s like a time bomb waiting to blow. The wife comes home early from court this morning. Wanted to stop in a grab the stethoscope to listen to the baby’s heart beat. Said she was worried because she didn’t feel her move for a while. If I had herb on me, I wouldn’t have been smoking already. I actually was outside working in the greenhouse when I walked in to find her home. I panicked a little, but remembered I hadn’t been outside smoking and that everything is cool. For now. Tick…tick…tick…
