The Marijuana Addict. Post #423.

“The grass always looks greener when you are really high.” -A commercial airline pilot

 

Like any other addict, the first thing he thought about when waking up in the morning was getting high. “Waking and baking” had become one of his favorite activities of the day. In the mornings he would have less anxiety when using marijuana. He got out of bed and made his coffee. He sat down in his chair or went outside and took his first hit of marijuana for the day. It felt good. It helped to wake him up and put him in a less grumpy mood. He drank his coffee and enjoyed feeling the combined effects of caffeine and THC. He would then read or exercise or do some domestic chores. Being high made it feel much more enjoyable for him to do these ordinarily mundane things.

Whenever he felt the effects of being high begin to wither away he would smoke again. This way he could hold back the tiredness, boredom, lack of interest and slight depression that comes along with no longer feeling high. He often made sure that he did not get too high. He just wanted to maintain a slight marijuana “buzz” to take the edge off while getting through the day-to-day. (Sometimes he would get immensely high, so high he did not want to move. But this was only on weekends or after a hard days work was done.) The marijuana just made things feel easier, more enhanced. Made the mundane much less mundane. Made the things he did not want to do much more enjoyable to get done. Being high seemed to take away the more unbearable aspects of his being.

He was able to be productive when high. It seemed like he could be even more effective at doing certain things (especially cleaning). Sometimes he felt like the marijuana gave him more focus and creativity. It opened his mind and made him want to do things. Everything he did seemed to be done with more interest and enthusiasm when high. The existential pain and banality that daily life often created, were alleviated by marijuana. Suddenly he was happy doing whatever it was that needed doing (which was often nothing). Even going to work felt fun. Marijuana sometimes made him feel like an accomplished Zen practitioner but without the Zen practice.

When high he went about his life in a happier state. He often felt like a better person than when not high. He would convince himself that marijuana was his medicine. This is why he needed to be high all the time. Things just felt better.

But sometimes this was not the case. Sometimes being high would not work as well for him. He would become paranoid that other people knew that he was high or thought that he was acting dumb. He would wonder if people thought he was a loser and this would make him distance himself from them. Sometimes he even felt bad about himself for being high all the time. He felt like he was doing something that he knew he should not be doing. But he would tell himself that this was just conservative social conditioning kicking in and then try to let these more shame-filled thoughts go. He was just a better person when high is how he really felt.

Sometimes he would begin to freak out because he feared that he could stop breathing or lose control at any second. It felt terrifying. Maybe the marijuana was poisoned? He felt his heart beat and he would become suddenly aware of the very fine line between life and death. His anxiety would spike and he would be unable to get rid of a sense of impending doom. Maybe something was seriously wrong with him? Maybe he should call an ambulance? Sometimes when this would happen he would drink beer. The combination of beer and marijuana seemed to balance out the more undesirable effects of being high. Sometimes the beer would get completely rid of the anxiety caused by the marijuana and this would allow “highness” to be so much more enjoyable. Often times he would drink beer when smoking marijuana. Often times he had to drink beer when smoking marijuana.

Sometimes marijuana would also cause him to become easily angered. More reactive towards things he would not normally get so angry about. When high he would sometimes lose control of himself without any say in the matter. It was just a sudden lose of self-control. When not high he noticed that he had more self-control over his reactivity, but when he was high if even the slightest thing made him mad he would react. The paranoia that he did not know he felt caused so many things to be blown out of proportion.

The more he used marijuana on a regular basis, he noticed that these negative effects of marijuana would often mellow out. The anxiety would still occasionally be there but the paranoia and anger seemed to dissipate over time. But he had to remain high all the time in order to have this more desirable outcome. But so what! Life was better high! Music was better. Television and film were better. Being creative felt easier. Sex was better. Sleep was better. Focus was easierLife no longer felt so dull. The pain was gone. Yeah he gained weight as a result of always needing to be munching on something delicious and drinking beer, but life was just happier when high. The belly and love handles were a small price to pay.

He had a hard time accomplishing things. Marijuana allowed him to be more content with his life in the present moment so there was not as much of a need to be ambitious about getting things done with a future purpose in mind. His future ambitions seemed to lessen and he didn’t mind that he was getting less done. Society was a trap anyways that he wanted to drop out from. Everybody was controlled by “the forces of mediocrity” and marijuana allowed him to become very aware of how narrow people’s minds had become. Timothy Leary’s saying: Turn on, Tune in and Drop out become his motto. By smoking marijuana he was liberating himself from the more socially conditioned workings of his own mind.

He always wanted to be high. When he was out of his house it was a bit more difficult. He felt some paranoia when interacting with the world. The world that he wanted to drop out of made him anxious. Being in cars or public places made him anxious when high. Being social made him feel uncomfortable. Uneasy. He much preferred the quiet and calm of his home when high. The home environment was much easier to control. So he became more isolated. Spent more and more time at home and in his head. He preferred being lost in the stoned meanderings of his own mind rather than engaged in social interactions with other people. Being social with others was just too hard when high.

He remained high for years. Years. All in all it was not a regrettable experience even though he does not really remember much. Several times he tried to give marijuana up or smoke it less frequently but his attempts almost always failed. After a week of not using marijuana he told himself that he could just use it more recreationally. But once he got high again he wanted to be high all the time. His own company and solitary activities were just so much more fun when high. The boredom was gone. The grass looked greener. Things just felt better, so he was back to being high all the time again and again. He was not as worried about what he was going to do with his life. Money was no longer as important. Everything was just fine when high. He did not need anything more than what was right here. He was all good. Everyone else was too uptight. But in the back of his mind he knew that he was going nowhere. He knew he was not living the life he really wanted to be living. He knew he was throwing his full potential under the bus. But that was ok. Such is life. He was right where he wanted to be. What a wonderful weed!

When he finally did manage to stop using marijuana it was not so easy. The first week or so he felt very anxious. Uneasy and on edge. He was tired a lot of the time. His mood had become depressed. He would become depressed when using marijuana as well (those times that he would not be high were often filled with a low-level depression). The cravings for marijuana were strong and constant. If he just used marijuana again all of this would go away. He would feel better again. But he stuck with it and just dealt with the cravings. His thoughts told him he could use marijuana recreationally. He remembered how nice it was being high and somehow managed to forget about all of the less advantageous aspects of using marijuana. It was as if his brain was continually trying to talk him into using again. Come on. You will be fine. But this time he was determined to not give in. He knew that if he went back and got high just one time, he would be high all the time.

The boredom returned. The mundane feelings returned. Cleaning or being creative was no longer nearly as enjoyable. His job became a drag again. He seemed to slow down and become less enthusiastic about basic things. It felt like he had to rebuild from the ground up. Normal life returned. Now he had to do what felt like really heavy lifting without the medicated feeling helping him out. But gradually things improved. The paranoia went away. He was much better at controlling his anger. He became reactive much less. The depression seemed to dissipate. His ambition gradually returned. The fine line between life and death began to feel much thicker. And even though things did not feel nearly as enjoyable as they did when he was high, gradually he felt like he was doing much more with his life. Now he was not stealing Zen. He was actual practicing it.

He still thinks about getting high each and every day. How nice it would be to be back in that stoney space where everything feels more enhanced and fun. With one puff to be able to eradicate the boredom, stress and mundane nature of day-to-day life. It is a continual temptation. But he also knows that boredom and the mundane are matches which light the fires of ambition. Without the matches, nothing can catch fire. He no longer wanted to drop out. He did not miss the paranoia, anxiety, angry reactivity, shame and continual need to buy more weed that seemed to accompany his perpetual dropping out. He still wanted to turn on and tune in but now he had to put in the effort that was needed to create these inner states for himself.

The Pothead

(The Pothead. Please pass this along to those whom you think could benefit. Thank you.)

He is not your ordinary pothead. In fact, by looking at him you would never know. He smokes pot most of the time. He consumes pot in the same way a sick person would consume her medicine. He does not mind telling people that when he is smoking pot everything feels better. His life long depression seems to slip away. Suddenly he cares about how he looks and feels an excited vibration towards life just around the area of his heart. Dark clouds part from the sky of his consciousness and light starts to flood in. Have you ever seen what happens to a child who is protein deprived and then receives a good dose of protein? It’s as if they are risen from the dead. He likes to tell this to his doctor who thinks that the daily consumption of pot can lead to lung cancer, schizophrenia, short-term memory loss, amotivational syndrome and intellectual stupor. Every time he visits his doctor (which is less often since he started consuming pot regularly) he reminds himself that he needs to find a new, more enlightened doctor.

His favorite time to take his medicine is in the mornings and again in the evenings. He works at a local bank and it is a job that often depresses him and causes him a great deal of inner conflict (as a progressive, radical, leftist, anarchist he believes that banks and corporations go against his deeper liberationist values). When he takes his medicine in the mornings he is suddenly excited about the day ahead of him, even if it is a ten-hour work day at the bank. After he takes his medicine, life feels good again and anything that he does can be experienced as a pleasurable activity.

He does not smoke to get high, not eighty percent of the time at least. Well this is not true- in the evenings he consumes pot to get high, to be fully immersed in a relaxing cocoon, to be in love again. In the mornings he consumes pot to feel better, to feel excited about life again. Normally in the mornings he is miserable. He has practiced meditation, exercised, done all sorts of things to feel good in the mornings but nothing has worked. After taking his medicine in the mornings he can be seen skipping around, smiling, pleasurably writing, going for long joy filled walks and laughing. It’s as if the depression immediately dissipates and he becomes awake to his life in ways that were not accessible to him when not consuming pot. His girlfriend likes to tell him that when consuming pot he is fun to be around again.

No one at the bank knows that he consumes pot. If they knew that the reason why he was so engaging, exceptional at his job and happy was because he was under the influence of pot, they would judge him. They might even see him as a drug addict (even though most of them take daily anti-depression medication pills), so he keeps his pot smoking to himself.

Certainly when he is not under the influence of pot he feels a higher degree of agitation and depression. He feels less satisfied, as if a certain quality of happiness has abandoned him. The negative side-effects of pot are a small price to pay for what he gains as a result of his consumption of pot. Everything has its trade offs, he believes. There is the yin and yang in every aspect of life. The definition of intelligence is to know and act appropriately when the positive outweighs the negative and vice versa.

This morning when he awoke it was dark and cloudy out. He felt a heaviness in his chest and a blackness in his head. He made himself some coffee and read the paper version of The New York Times. He felt heavier and heavier until finally he decided that it was time to take his medicine. Within ten minutes he was in the shower and then getting dressed up nicely for work. He was smiling and joyfully listening to music. He did some cleaning up around his house before leaving for work. He kissed his cats goodbye. On his drive to work he did not feel the heavy, unsatisfying weight of displeasure that can consume a person when going to a job that they hate. Instead he was present, enjoying the music coming through his car speakers. He felt lucky to have a car.

The pothead consumes pot every night before going to bed. Prior to not consuming pot before bed his sleep was always interrupted by back pains, leg pains, chest pains, breathing problems and the never ending gyrations of a restless mind. Now he sleeps every night through, uninterrupted by anything except the occasional need to pee. He is not troubled by overwhelming dreams or any other discomforts while sleeping. His sleep is the sleep of those who inhabit the realm of weightlessness, boundlessness and have been able to completely let go of all attachments. It is the sleep of a very pleasant nothingness.

When he does not take his medicine his cats drive him crazy. He feels overwhelmed by the mess they make, their financial upkeep cost and the damage to his home that they have done. He often ignores them. After consuming pot, there are few people’s company that he enjoys more than his cats. He loves his cats and wants to play with them. He laughs at the amount of trouble they cause and appreciates their defiance and destructiveness. His cats become his best friends. He is well aware that when he takes his medicine (consuming pot) the whole world becomes like his cats. Everything becomes interesting and enjoyable. He is comfortable with his life and life seems comfortable with him. Activities that often cause him drudgery are fun. He wants to engage with the world. When under the influence of pot he is able to see just how unhappy and heavy the majority of people are (including himself at times), how uninspired they are about their lives.

He is well aware that this is a fundamental part of being a pothead that he needs to accept. When under the influence of pot his consciousness seems to work better. It seems to become re-invigorated and alive. However, the majority of humans that he is around are unable to access these plateau states. They are weighed down by life. This can be alienating for the pothead, but what he has learned is that through being more alive, more invigorated by life, he has a greater capacity to handle the daily suffering of the human race. After all, life involves a great deal of suffering. The person who lives for 40 years and does not experience a great degree of suffering is someone who is exceptionally lucky. They have a high degree of good karma. However, even they too will eventually experience an increase in their levels of suffering as life goes on. For the pothead, the general suffering that seems to be involved in daily living is almost completely eradicated when consuming pot. It would not be a stretch to think of the pothead as someone who has mastered the art of living, once they take their medicine. The pothead is well aware that pot could indeed save the world.

The pothead is thinking that this weekend he will buy a new bike and start going on long and spontaneous bike rides.