Dragon of the Scribe











{June 29, 2012}   Marijuana. Yup, I’m talking about it.

Not my picture! 🙂

So.  Why am I talking about this?  It’s illegal with few exceptions, such as medical reasons in certain states.  It’s considered a ‘gateway’ drug to far harsher street drugs – like crack.  It’s also one of the most misunderstood substances in the known world at this moment in time.  Why?

When I was 17, I woke up screaming.  The pain in my hip – which was very real but without any known cause – was so intense, my dad made a phone call.  He called a friend of mine, who he knew smoked pot.  My dads a Registered Nurse for Psychiatric care.  Pain killers doctors wanted to put me on were extremely powerful and dangerous.  He’d rather see me high on something that might actually help, and not risk severe complications such as organ failure from prescriptions.

I went to my friends house, and he offered me a bowl.  For the first time, I could sleep a full night and wake up in less pain.

This was a breakthrough.  I started to study it, I didn’t smoke it often – only using it when I was in severe pain or as an alternative way to celebrate – instead of drinking.

Between then, and 24 – it was rarely something I did.  A few months ago, I started losing my ability to eat, drink and sleep.  I started writing this blog, and I started to smoke up more frequently.

June 4th was my birthday.  As you can imagine, green was something that I was offered as presents.  I smoked up every day.  This wasn’t normal – and my Husband was less than thrilled with this development.  I understand his reasoning for being upset.  I never smoked up much before, and suddenly I was high at least once a day.  This IS NOT healthy, and have since been far more careful with it.  However; that does not mean he thinks it’s bad for me and is telling me to stop.

Weed has many benefits that has helped me tremendously.  It’s been getting me to eat more.  I’m slowly starting to have an appetite, and a regular eating pattern.  It calms me down faster after an episode, allowing me to focus on something different – such as a show – artwork – or writing.  It also helps me sleep regular hours.

This is not a cure-all drug.  This is not something that I believe makes all my worries go away – nor is it something that I believe is just a placebo.  Before that phone call my dad made, I had the firm belief that weed was a horrible thing, that it destroyed lives and extremely dangerous.  My dad explained that it would at the very least help me sleep, but didn’t give me a lot of details.  He said he didn’t like how it affected him, being too similar to being drunk.  (My dad doesn’t like the feeling of lack of control, so being high or drunk my dad avoids like the plague).

I knew it was suppose to help the pain and sleep, I didn’t realize how it would change how I felt completely.  I enjoy eating.  I enjoy learning. It didn’t make me change how I saw my life, it didn’t change who I was, and it didn’t change how life was.  It didn’t cure me, but it helped me.

My sleep schedule’s are something that have been an issue for years.  I wanted to talk to a doctor about it, knowing the serious implications connected to my illness.  He gave me pills that would help me fall asleep and keep me there – but not knock me out.  This is night 4.  A few hours of sleep here, 8 hours there… and last night over 17 hours.  This is not safe.   This is also with my system cleared of THC.  I’ve  talked to my first doctor about my regular prescriptions with weed, and I know that while he cannot give comment – did say that there would be no reaction.  My family doctor I knew he would give a biased answer, and chose not to risk complications.

I do not like this medication for sleep.  It’s unpredictable, and obviously not correcting the issues, but making them worse.  I’d rather take something that I know works, has no complications or side affects.  I’d rather take something illegal – safe – and works on a number of problems.  Not only has marijuana helped my pain, eating habits and sleep – it’s making me realize how dangerous some medicines actually are.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I smoke weed.  I’m not sorry for it.  It doesn’t mean I’m high 24/7, it doesn’t mean I’m a pot head.  Hell, I’m not even high right now.  This article is now starting to drag on, I’m still very tired, and not able to concentrate from over sleeping. Anyway, take this article as you may, I’m expecting comments.

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