Tag Archives: marijuana

It Works if You Work It

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The first time I ever thought about sharing anything in Alcoholics Anonymous was at an open discussion meeting and there were two topics.  I have no recall what the first topic was but I sure remember the second which was, “having a hard time sitting with feelings.”

It wasn’t a round robin style meeting so I sheepishly raised my hand, which was the hardest thing to do being riddled with social anxiety.   However, the desire to get this out of me was stronger than the fear of whatever people might have thought after I spoke.

I began speaking.  I told everyone in that room that I did not know how to live life without trying to change the attenuation of my emotions, be it trying to intensify them or tone them down. Still other times I was flagrantly running away from them through multiple substances and behaviors.

Then I began listing them one by one trying to be as honest as I could:

I’ve self-medicated using alcohol, marijuana, food, sex, relationships, compulsive cleaning, compulsive shopping, compulsive exercising, workaholism, surfing the internet,   rocking out to loud music, speeding in fast cars and last but not least when all else failed isolating from people.”

Then I noticed the room was so quiet I could hear a pin drop.  I wondered if I had shared too much.  I felt my face feeling red and hot. My mind raced like it always does projecting what people may be negatively thinking about me. I wanted to crawl out of there.

I closed out with “thank you.”  It wasn’t until the next person began sharing that my face stopped feeling as hot.  I felt more honest that day, as if I had released a giant weight. It’s one thing to unburden oneself in the privacy of a therapist’s office and have them normalize my behavior but it felt like a more genuine process in front of peers.  You never know if you can trust a shrink, after all they are getting a paycheck.  I wasn’t sure the response I would get, if any.

After the meeting ended 5 people approached me to shake my hand and thank me for my share. I was taken aback. One of them, who later became my fiancé said,” thank you so much for your share, you just shared my exact story.

I’ll never forget that day. That was the day I felt like I wasn’t the only leper anymore.


Blogging is like confession, without the Hail Marys and Our Fathers

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It’s so true isn’t it?

I come here and unload all the shit that churns around in the recesses of my mind and my soul.   All the benefits that comes with the process of confession, none of the fear of being chastised and told to repent.

So there’s something inherently therapeutic about the whole thing.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch Pope Benedict resigns….


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Ever since I can remember, I have had this ache in my heart.

A yearning to be loved.

It never goes away.

Like the speaker on a stereo system, sometimes the volume is more quiet and sometimes it is blaring at me.

But it never goes away.

Sometimes the ache to be loved hurts so bad it brings me to tears, it’s like I am bleeding from the inside out.

******

I was twelve when I smoked my first joint because my brother grew it and distributed it.   I took my first shot of Smirnoff at the same age.  I realized it it numbed me out, it blotted out the pain in my heart some and turned down that volume of my heartache.

Love…..love is  better than pot, better than booze, it was like popping powerful opiates but better.

It makes me feel like every thing in the world is safe and going to be okay.

Love makes me feel like I am coming home again.

******

But money can’t buy you love.

I wish I could annihilate this yearning inside me.  I wish there was a switch I could shut off, or get rid of this gaping hole in my heart.

💔


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