“Even though smoking pot wasn’t fun, I couldn’t stop. I’ve heard that one of the meanings of the word addiction is slavery, and I was truly a slave to marijuana.”
– A Slave to Marijuana, Life with Hope, third edition, page 100
I am a marijuana addict. I always chuckled at the part we read that said, “Were you anxious when your stash was low?” My stash was never low. I was a functional addict, dealer, connoisseur, and purveyor of cannabis. My whole life and livelihood centered around it. If I were to run out, I would melt away like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz; that could never happen.
The sad part was that I never realized that subconsciously I dealt so that I would never run out. I had to always be numb. I couldn’t possibly allow myself to feel emotions, people, and life. Through the MA program, I have come to learn that my life without weed has so much more to offer. I no longer live with anxiety every time I hear sirens or simply wake up. I have service positions and look forward to meetings as opposed to living hopelessly. I have friends who care about me legitimately, not because I am their source. I hope that soon I’ll know peace.
Final thought: Today, I live a life with hope.
