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jakebe ([personal profile] jakebe) wrote2023-09-29 09:04 am

What Was I Made For?

I am addicted to marijuana. I feel the need to just write this down as a way of admitting it to myself because if I can't cope with that fact on my own I won't be able to move forward.

The addiction is interfering with my ability to do the things I'd like to be doing -- writing, cooking, home-making, just engaging with life in general. My brain will trick itself into thinking that I can be productive after a few hits off the vape, so I'll try it, and then thinking is just too hard so I'll postpone the activity until I have a clearer head. Or I'll actually try getting to work but the process is so slow and scattered it's not the most effective way to work. Projects keep getting pushed back, habits and systems continue to be disrupted, and that guilty feeling keeps building in the back of my head.

I've known for a few months now that my usage was a problem -- longer than that, even. My psychiatrist randomly asks for a urine test whenever I request a new Adderall prescription, and for a long time I was able to time it so that I would go on a month-long break in order to pass it. But then I found an outfit that provides synthetic urine as a way around it; I used it the first time when I was in a bit of a bind and didn't have the time to get clean. But since then? I've used it every time a random test pops up.

The first time I did it, it felt like I had crossed a line. This was addict shit, right? Cheating on a drug test to get a highly-controlled substance? Lying to my psych? But once the line was crossed and I got away with it, it suddenly felt like no big deal.

Meanwhile, usage restrictions kept getting rolled back over the years. It used to be I'd only smoke on weekends, and even then after my "top three" goals were met. Then it was smoking sometimes on weeknights, but only after work. Then, I'm ashamed to say, smoking only after noon. Now, waking and baking is a matter of course on the weekends and I probably spend more time high than sober.

I've tried to take breaks before this year that haven't really stuck, and that's another big warning sign. I'm unable to police myself when it comes to this; the impulse becomes too strong at some point and then I break. That enabling part of my brain tells me that OK, but the addiction isn't so bad -- people have addictions to way worse and end up being unable to function in daily life. But if this is messing with my ability to actually lead a fulfilling life, that means it's bad enough.

I was resistant to the idea because so much of the material out there says that marijuana is non habit-forming, and that might be true on a chemical basis. But for me, pot is the only thing I know of that quiets that little fearful voice in the back of my head that's worried about messing up or revealing the secret that will make people hate me. It's so much easier to be outside of my own head, to accept people as they are, to enjoy whatever is happening.

But the thing is, those feelings aren't necessarily true. Marijuana also makes me emotionally inert and detached, and I think I've been mistaking that detachment for contentment. Without it, I'd have to take a sober look at my circumstances, accept the ways in which they're lacking, and do the hard work to change that.

That's such a scary proposition because I don't know where that road leads. I mean, probably nowhere too bad -- but what if R. doesn't like it, or it strains our relationship? What if the road I choose leads me away from the friends and found family I've built over time? How will it feel to engage with the underlying, fundamental feeling that the world is coming to an end, and how can I cope with the melancholy despair that feeling tinges everything else with?

I don't know, but I have to find out the answers to these questions and marijuana will not help me do that. So, at the very least, I'm going to have to get a lot more strict about curbing (if not quitting) usage. I'll have to sit with that a few days before I can figure out next steps.