tick…tick…tick…

“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.

must know your strands

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.

Let’s not have a heart attack

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…

Chemical free. Oh boy.

So, what I heard they do in detox programs is they do not let you put anything into your body that is considered a drug. Caffeine, nicotine, obviously alchohol, and so on; even sex. I would like to try that (I’m not sure about the sex part though). It seems like I’m trying to kill myself, compounding all the withdrawal symptoms.

Yesterday I went to my college buddy’s wedding. I was a groomsman and started getting tossed early. Of course, his older brother had the Master Kush and we hit it right before the ceremony.  Long story short, I violated the cardinal rule of drinking and paid dearly: I had beer first then, after the minister pulled out a flask, had some shots of Jack Daniels.  Made it through the night, though I passed out for about an hour and a  half.  Good thing we brought that aerobed.  Anyway, wife found me, was pretty pissed I went missing for an hour and a half.  We packed everything up and, about 20 minutes into the ride home, everything came up.  I must’ve yakked at least 3 times on the way home, all over the ride.  Woke up this morning and had to clean the loveliness left between the door and the window.

Around noon, the wife left, still pissed.  I hit the last nug I had left to help my sick stomach.  And it helped.  Nausea went away.  Spent the rest of the day recovering, but didn’t have any coffee or another hit.  That’s when I decided that, maybe I’ll do it the way most detox centers work.  Tonight, no beer to wind down.  Tomorrow, no caffeine to wind up.  Hopefully the demons will all be pissed and fight each other.  Tomorrow, hopefully, marks day one.

On and on the same song…

Okay, thought it would be cool yesterday since it was our wedding anniversary and the wifey would be home all day and we’d hang out and I wouldn’t smoke.  Then the  beast got to me and I was able to sneak in a rip right before we headed out to the movies.  Then it was all downhill from there when we got back.  Cracked open some wine and ripped on the damn bubbler some more.

The day before I went to a rehearsal dinner for a wedding.  Come to find that the groom’s older brother had come up on some mean chronic from up north.  Master Kush, from what he relayed to me at the dinner.  Anyway, lo and behold, he was gonna be prepared for today’s wedding.  Had the Kush and what he called a “monkey”.  Small wooden piece that reverses on itself to form a pipe.  Plans for the reception I guess.

I know it’s the beast talking, but, could it really be that bad to be smoking?  I mean, other than the stigma that’s been place on smoking weed, is it really that bad?  Of course, these are the thoughts that come to me to justify the addiction.  What’s worse, I am aware, and I let myself believe.

July 4th and I still haven’t put out the fire.

Take 2 (more like 2,000)

And we’re back to square one.  Failed yesterday.  Failed today.  At least I have a wedding rehearsal dinner to go to and have to be around the  wife.  That guarentees I don’t smoke.  It’s like I’m being pulled by the beast whenever she can get me; but the boss lady is so much more powerful.  So the beast becomes sneaky.

Gotta try again.  Gotta get rid of the stash.  Get rid of the bubbler.

It has to start now!

Okay, I’m done. I need to stop. It’s not even fun anymore. I just feel myself dying. It doesn’t make sense. Get rid of the stash, get rid of the dope. My prescription expires next month, so just don’t renew. End of the month, tomorrow is a new day. But can’t wait til tomorrow to start. Don’t want to fall into that trap again. Starting now. Have to get rid of my bubbler; have to get rid of all my shit. But it’s so easy to say now….while you’re high. Where does this resolve go when you come back down and sober up. WTF man.