Recent Articles
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Dear Mary Jane
Written by, Becky O. Dear Mary Jane,Thanks for protecting me from a lot of hard feelings I wasn’t ready to deal with yet. I don’t need you to do that for me anymore. I’m 49 and I’m ready to grow up and feel my feelings. I’m learning that they inform me about what’s going on…
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Work it cause YOUR WORTH IT.
Written by, Day L. Before recovery, I was incredibly hard on myself. I did not believe I was lovable not by anyone else, and honestly not even by myself. Because of that, I gave too much of myself away and looked for validation anywhere I could find it. A big part of that was marijuana.…
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CALLING IT AS IT IS
Written by, Leslie J. I can’t believe it happened to me. After brushing off all the gateway drug talks, the silent, disapproving I told you so’s echo in my head. If I had only known the gate was to addiction, period—not just cross-addiction. The first time I heard about weed was in one of those…
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Heard in a Meeting
“Do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy?” Published in A New Leaf – April 2026
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Faith Can Be Slippery
Written by, Susan C. I didn’t know what trust was when I got into recovery. I had no faith. Pot had been my higher power for more than 15 years. When people said their higher power was keeping them clean and sober, I was confused. How come I used so much longer than I wanted…
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Buh-Bye, MJ
Written by, Jen B. Dear MJ, Goodbye. I have decided that I am better off without you. Kicking you off my porch and out of my car felt freeing today. I don’t need you to enjoy my walk — it’s more peaceful without you. I don’t want you clouding my judgment ever again. You are…
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How We Grow
Written by, District 29 – Ireland Much gratitude from District 29 Ireland to you for inviting us to celebrate Irish Heritage Month with you. For those of you who may not be familiar with D29, we are a small but growing district, officially born in 2024 thanks to the dedicated service of a handful of…
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Gripped by Green
Written by, Amy K. Chaos crowned my childhood years,a crown of grief, a flood of tears.Mum was gone before I knewhow fragile love, how brief, how true. At eight, the world was cracked and cold,foster hands, but none to hold.Brother lost to darker fires,needles, powders, failed desires. I found my comfort in the haze,at twelve…
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A Simple Conversation
Written by, Michael J. A fellow’s post reminded me of a simple conversation I had this morning with the love of my life. It was about how taking something non-narcotic to help me sleep only works if I take it about once a month. If taken more often than that, it does nothing. That simple…
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