I woke up yesterday with an iron determination.

I planned to have my first work day in almost 4 weeks without partaking before the end of the work day. I relapsed hard, and I had to take control back. The workday was off limit, and now was the day I set things right.

The day ahead

I planned it all out: my stash was in the time-locked box which was locked until the end of the afternoon. I set my schedule for the day, and I had an okay night of sleep. I had a bit too much food in the evening as usual.

Otherwise I was ready to embrace the 12 hours of sobriety ahead. I put some CBD oil under my tongue to take the edge off yesterday’s weed hangover, and got ready for the work day. I was working from home that day, and I had some nice work lined up, it felt good.

Something’s in the pile

Mid-morning I went to fetch my phone to access my work authentication app. I left my phone in my bag overnight in the back pocket. I unzipped the pocket, slipped my hand into it and pulled the content to examine it. There it was, my phone shinning on top of the pile of various items: a leather wallet with rows of plastic cards; keys attached by a metal loop to a square black fob; white and red lights for the bike and walking at night; and sandwich bag with two white sticks in it. It grabbed the bag and lifted it up to eyes level. The whitish sticks were joints rolled over the week-end that I left in my bag Sunday and forgot.

The night before I took all my paraphanelia and substance and locked it up, at least that’s what I though. I left these sinful cigarettes out of the box.

And now these white brain candy sticks are here, with me, on a week day at home.

click puff

This is the moment I never understand, despite all my best intention, it was clear that I wouldn’t be able to resist. All that goodwill evaporates at the sight of these objects of my burning desire. These two joints were traps that I unwittingly set-up for myself.

Slave

I only managed to hold off for an hour. I am restlessly hooked these days.

I am enslaved by the Goblin. Anytime one of its ambassador appears, I have to answer the call. Those two joints were all the proofs I needed that I would relapse today. I am back at the point where I must dodge a series of trap to get back to freedom.

The path to freedom

It will be long and winding. I live in a place where Cannabis is accessible and inexpensive. I have to balance my cravings and normal life. The only way out is bit by bit. I’m making another attempt tomorrow, 12 hours of sobriety, it’s a small step, but I hope it’s the first of my final journey to freedom. I have started that journey so many times, and almost reached a freeing paradise a few times. But the hellish goblin always pulled me back.

I know I am better than the Goblin. One day I will prevail, and it better not be the day I die.