My AddictionI started smoking weed twelve years ago at the age of forty. I have never been a big drinker or a cigarette smoker so it surprised me that smoking weed would be something I became addicted to. Yes, I am well aware of all the pedantic arguments about marijuana addiction; it is not physically addictive. But there can be no denying that for some people it can be very psychologically addictive, especially if smoked on a daily basis.
I love weed. I believe it should be legalized. But my own problem is that I have watched my life go down the toilet since I started smoking it. I used to be a very sociable person with strong ambitions and a successful career. These days I do as little work as possible, having closed my business and dropped out of the full time job I had for the last three years. I told myself I needed more free time to concentrate on my writing and my pursuit of freelance work but, in all honesty, I have spent the past six months sitting around the house getting high, watching mindless TV and surfing the web for hours on end. Even the Experience Project has become a fixation for me and I have no idea what the attraction is. Maybe I don't want to feel so alone? maybe I want other people to tell me they have the same problems, maybe I want affirmation that it isn't the weed that is causing my depression, apathy, lack of motivation and anti-social behaviour.
I avoid the phone. I never answer the doorbell unless I know somebody is coming over. I never go out with friends or invite people round for dinner. I feel wretched and there's a constant knot of anxiety in the pit of my stomach all the time; a gnawing that I can't assuage. I have become the kind of person I always used to condemn but I don't seem capable of facing up to it or making any kind of change in my smoking habits.
I can stop smoking without too much problem as long as I go away from my home to a place where there is no weed and no possibility of getting it. But as soon as I get back home I can't get through the evening without a few tokes. I don't think I even enjoy it any more, it just makes me feel detached and insular.
I would go to a narcotics annonymous meeting if they weren't all ba
I feel like a pathetic human being; a waster, a complainer, a non-participant. Most of all I hate the fact that I am systematically ruining my life. No job, no money, no ambition. I can't continue for much longer because I've cashed in my pension plan, spent all my savings and have only enough money left for one more mortgage payment before I start relying on credit cards.
I am better than this.
Does anyone have any words of wisdom or similat circumstances?
Sighman 51-55, M 2 Responses 0 May 10, 2012