Retrospective 2023: 250 days smoking weed.

Cannabis is my Goblin, he was fun 15 years ago, but today he’s all sorrow.

Mind

Smoking makes me restless and anxious. The heady high doesn’t relax the mind or the body. It’s like a toll on well being, if I don’t pay the price the Goblin constantly poke my mind and nags me. It pulls me away from my duties and distracts me from the things I truly love.

He pierces my mind out of nowhere. The smoking imp clenches and squeeze all other thoughts out until I give in.

All while whispering its sweet lies: “Do it for yourself, you need me to make the pain go away. It’s for your own good.”

Body

It claws at my back, working its way through my shoulders, arms, neck, and head. It pokes my body from the time I get up until I go to bed. Around lunch time the whipping is ruthless, the Goblin desperately tried to steer me towards its unholy sacrament.

Night sweats in the morning is how the goblin wakes me up.

Inflammation is the Goblin’s whip, it lashes harder and faster as the day passes.

Snots and coughs are added in for good measure if I resist the Gremlin all day.

One day the Goblin may kill me. Inhaling smoke everyday certainly could.

Time

Time is the only thing we truly possess. Smoking weed robs me of an hour of this most precious treasure every day. Time spent walking to and from the dispensary, getting lighters, hiding away on dark and ugly corners of the city. Going out for an dreadful walk without peace, only a bit of relief from pain.

I’m not even counting the time spent obsessing over it. How much of my life was consumed by the vicious green imp?

I could have done a significant body of work during all that time. I could have read at least 10 books this year. I could have learned how to draw. I could have written dozens of blog posts. I could have loved my wife, dog, family, and community.

Instead I spent hundred of hours in 2023 making myself suffer. Burning away my own childhood’s dreams.

I try to lift my spirit by borrowing from the future. It’s a pact with the devil.

Money

I spend around $15 a day on pre-rolls and flowers. For this year it came down to 250 days times $15, that’s $3,750. A sizable sum for most, it’s a significant chunk of my income. I don’t need that extra money, but it sure would have been nice if it was still in my bank account.

Or I could have spent it on computer equipment, drawing lessons, hockey gears, ice time, hockey lessons, books, bike gear, presents and flowers for my wonderful wife.

That’s almost three weeks of work per year just to buy this shit.

Relationships

Smoking Marijuana takes me away from the most important person in my life: my soulmate that I married not so long ago. It’s like I’m taking her for granted. I hide that stuff from her, and I’m clearly not fooling her. I deceive her, she knows it and I hate it. My addiction is slowly hurting our loving relationship.

I avoided saying hello to friends on the street because I was smoking or too high to handle it. I felt like a loser.

Anger

I hate smoking weed.

I hate lighting up the joint. It’s either too windy, or the joint doesn’t burn right. It’s never a nice smoking session, like a Tobacco cigarette is.

The first hit is the best, and yet it disappoints every single time. It should be obvious by now that I am chasing an illusion and yet... I can’t see it, even after that first hit.

The taste is nauseating, it’s like hash with a bitter after taste. The resin gets all over my fingers and lips.

I have to keep pulling on it harder and harder, and yet the taste gets worst and I feel I get nothing out of it.

The end of the joint is the worst part. It hurts my throat.

The goblin just takes over, makes me soft and weak.

I hate myself when I’m high. I loathe smoking Cannabis.

Cannabis hates me, it has stopped being a friend a long time ago, it now is a mortal enemy.

Why I am handing out with my mortal enemy everyday?

In 2024 I want to direct my anger and hatred towards Cannabis.