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03- March 1993
More Articles
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What I Didn’t Do
Written by, Julie A. Weed once felt like a soft landing — a cushion for my racing mind, a bridge out of loneliness. But over time, the cushion smothered me. Nights blurred into smoke, mornings into fog. I thought I was escaping, but really I was erasing myself. My wife held me through it, even…
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Tradition Two and Humility
Written by, Anonymous “For our group purpose there is but one ultimate authority, a loving God whose expression may come through in our group conscience. Our leaders are but trusted servants; they do not govern.” -Tradition Two As a recovering marijuana addict, I am constantly reminded of how many “control issues” still lurk around the…
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LGBTQIA+ and Being in Recovery
Written by, Connor B. My first boyfriend was the one who introduced me to marijuana. I was 18 and he was significantly older. He took advantage of my naïve puppy love in many ways: pressuring me to give him a car loan, living in my dorm room for months, etc. But it was developing the…
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Marijuana
Written By, Dannie H. My heart ached for so long.And you told me it was alright.Realizing to smoke is pain,I thought about you all night.July of my last trip,Ugly, boring, and a shame.A newfound freedomNever fiending for you again.A new leaf I have turned, fake friend! Published By A New Leaf – January 2026
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Making It To Dry Land
Written By, Lee N. A way to stay afloat. That’s what marijuana was for me. My therapist (cringing at myself for being a living, breathing queer, Jewish stereotype by starting a sentence this way but…if the shoe fits) recently shared with me a parable in which someone had compared their addiction to a life raft.…
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Choosing Life
Written By, Mirabelle H. I smoked for the first time when I was 16. I didn’t feel anything physically, but emotionally, I felt guilt—like I was stepping over a line I wasn’t ready to cross. I told myself it would be different when I was older, when it was “okay.” So I made a deal…
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