The Marijuana Dissertation
Jan. 29th, 2003 09:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoweeI actually didn't think I'd get to this today, but I got prolific at the last minute. So, here it is. The not-so-long awaited
My sister's been converted to a new religion by this book called "Potatoes Not Prozac". The point she's making is that our health, mindset, and such fall back onto our eating habits. If we eat the right foods, it will be easier to lose weight, be happy, and solve our problems. For example, the starch in potatoes break down into sugars that are healthier for our bodies and fight sugar cravings. If we do these things, it'll make us happy.
Ok, chemically this makes some sense. The only reason I say she's been converted to a new religion is that she keeps getting on these ideas and then I can't get her to shut the fuck up about them. If I wanted to know about this dietary solution, I'd read the fucking book myself.
Which is why, I suppose, no one should bother reading my marijuana dissertation unless they are looking to back up their reason for ingesting it. (I was going to say smoking it since that's my preferred method, but I hear brownies are yummy). At first you're going to be wondering why this is called a marijuana dissertation, but I assure you, I'm getting there.
Most people with mild Manic Depression know that they are willing to avoid medication at all costs because you lose the highs. When they stick you on pills, it makes everything level out to what the psychologist refers to as "normal". If it's normal to walk around like a zombie and lose a year of your life as well as the ability to hold things in short term memory and block out much of your long term memory then I did that when I took Prozac for a year in Jr High and I'll tell you something. I hated it.
I know we joke that my memory problems come from pot use. Ok, I'm sure it hasn’t helped, but the truth is I had a great memory and got great grades without trying until I hit 14. They stuck me on that silly anti-depressant and after being on it for a month, I couldn't remember what I ate for breakfast. I couldn't remember where I wrote down what I ate for breakfast in case someone asked. I couldn't remember whether or not I'd gone to my previous class. My sister describes me as a zombie for that year. I, actually, don't remember it. At all. Even after being off the stuff for years now, I have no recollection of that year, of the teachers I had, of... anything. I went off it when I was 15 (against the doctor's advice, actually) and struggled for over a year and a half before I smoked weed. Friend and I only scored three hits between that and graduation. So it was nearly 3 years before I'd smoked enough of anything for that to be the place of blame.
My psychologist's solution to the fact that I was still miserable was to recommend that my doctor up the dosage. We tried that for a month and... I don’t remember what happened. Not even a clue. Shortly after that, she ran off to Maui with one of her patients. {pause}
Needless to say, that experience (she was actually the third psychologist I'd seen and from beginning to end I was on the drug for 13 months, I believe) left me cold. I'm not into the idea of seeing a therapist or taking drugs stronger than Tylenol. I've gotten a bit into the herbal world and try to solve illnesses that way before turning to the medical profession. I admit to smoking the dope in phases. Sometimes I smoke several bowls in a month, other times I don’t touch it for many weeks. I quit when Victoria was on her way and didn't smoke again until recently and I save it for when Sick Monkey's home to take care of her. Yeah, I'm talking freely about it now because the adoption is finalized and the only person reading my LJ who could do anything smokes it with me so I can't really worry about her and I trust she'll not tell anyone else. Hopefully, no one else will feel the need to call DCFS or the authorities on me. It's not like I'm irresponsible about it.
So, on to the point of this entire commentary. I'm not going to harsh on anyone's marijuana induced mellow. See, I came to the realization recently that this is why it's good for me. The thing that pissed me off most about the medication was that I lost the highs. Sure! I lost the low, depressive moments, but those highs – those highs are what we live for. Ask any Manic who avoids medication and they'll probably tell you it's because they lose their highs. Those highs make it all worth it and a doctor just doesn't get that because they've never felt it. They don't know what it's like. I've, fortunately, never been dangerously manic so I can't see a need to stop me from having those highs.
This is where pot comes in. When you're having a manic high, you – or should I say I? I try not to diagnose myself, but whatever. I tremble with anxiety. I have panic attacks and stay up half the night. If I smoke a bowl, it relaxes me. If I feel myself starting to be too much for my skin to contain, I can smoke a bowl and calm myself before it gets out of control, but I don't lose that good feeling, that positive outlook – 'cause hey. It's gonna be all right, right, man? Yeah, dude. I still feel kind of high in spirits, but I can control myself.
And when I'm down, when the world looks bleak, I can smoke a little favour and it lifts me up a bit. It makes my mind too busy trying to carry on a conversation to plan a suicide, too relaxed to care about the down. Yeah, it doesn't solve any problems, but half the mark of depression is that there aren't problems necessarily causing the depression. You're just DOWN and can't see to bring yourself up. Weed gives me a break from that, lulls me into a stupor, and the next day the outlook can look better. Hope. Hope is the thing that makes us survive through everything, right? Whether it's chemical or mental, serious or mild, we survive because we're strong and we're strong because we have hope. I'm not trying to discount any type of depression or any level here. I'm not trying to say there's anything wrong with prescriptions either. I'm just saying that this is what's true for me – could be true for others considering I know other people who control their depression with weed too. It's not uncommon. I'm just putting a label to it.
Which isn't exactly some grand epiphany worthy of publication, of course. It's just this thing that sits inside me, something I wanted to get out. Besides, now when someone condemns you, you can say (truth or lie, who gives a fuck?): "I use it to control my depression."
Next up, my dissertation on casual sex. (I'm joking, of course, but now that I've thought about it, who knows?) Now I'm off to clean.
My sister's been converted to a new religion by this book called "Potatoes Not Prozac". The point she's making is that our health, mindset, and such fall back onto our eating habits. If we eat the right foods, it will be easier to lose weight, be happy, and solve our problems. For example, the starch in potatoes break down into sugars that are healthier for our bodies and fight sugar cravings. If we do these things, it'll make us happy.
Ok, chemically this makes some sense. The only reason I say she's been converted to a new religion is that she keeps getting on these ideas and then I can't get her to shut the fuck up about them. If I wanted to know about this dietary solution, I'd read the fucking book myself.
Which is why, I suppose, no one should bother reading my marijuana dissertation unless they are looking to back up their reason for ingesting it. (I was going to say smoking it since that's my preferred method, but I hear brownies are yummy). At first you're going to be wondering why this is called a marijuana dissertation, but I assure you, I'm getting there.
Most people with mild Manic Depression know that they are willing to avoid medication at all costs because you lose the highs. When they stick you on pills, it makes everything level out to what the psychologist refers to as "normal". If it's normal to walk around like a zombie and lose a year of your life as well as the ability to hold things in short term memory and block out much of your long term memory then I did that when I took Prozac for a year in Jr High and I'll tell you something. I hated it.
I know we joke that my memory problems come from pot use. Ok, I'm sure it hasn’t helped, but the truth is I had a great memory and got great grades without trying until I hit 14. They stuck me on that silly anti-depressant and after being on it for a month, I couldn't remember what I ate for breakfast. I couldn't remember where I wrote down what I ate for breakfast in case someone asked. I couldn't remember whether or not I'd gone to my previous class. My sister describes me as a zombie for that year. I, actually, don't remember it. At all. Even after being off the stuff for years now, I have no recollection of that year, of the teachers I had, of... anything. I went off it when I was 15 (against the doctor's advice, actually) and struggled for over a year and a half before I smoked weed. Friend and I only scored three hits between that and graduation. So it was nearly 3 years before I'd smoked enough of anything for that to be the place of blame.
My psychologist's solution to the fact that I was still miserable was to recommend that my doctor up the dosage. We tried that for a month and... I don’t remember what happened. Not even a clue. Shortly after that, she ran off to Maui with one of her patients. {pause}
Needless to say, that experience (she was actually the third psychologist I'd seen and from beginning to end I was on the drug for 13 months, I believe) left me cold. I'm not into the idea of seeing a therapist or taking drugs stronger than Tylenol. I've gotten a bit into the herbal world and try to solve illnesses that way before turning to the medical profession. I admit to smoking the dope in phases. Sometimes I smoke several bowls in a month, other times I don’t touch it for many weeks. I quit when Victoria was on her way and didn't smoke again until recently and I save it for when Sick Monkey's home to take care of her. Yeah, I'm talking freely about it now because the adoption is finalized and the only person reading my LJ who could do anything smokes it with me so I can't really worry about her and I trust she'll not tell anyone else. Hopefully, no one else will feel the need to call DCFS or the authorities on me. It's not like I'm irresponsible about it.
So, on to the point of this entire commentary. I'm not going to harsh on anyone's marijuana induced mellow. See, I came to the realization recently that this is why it's good for me. The thing that pissed me off most about the medication was that I lost the highs. Sure! I lost the low, depressive moments, but those highs – those highs are what we live for. Ask any Manic who avoids medication and they'll probably tell you it's because they lose their highs. Those highs make it all worth it and a doctor just doesn't get that because they've never felt it. They don't know what it's like. I've, fortunately, never been dangerously manic so I can't see a need to stop me from having those highs.
This is where pot comes in. When you're having a manic high, you – or should I say I? I try not to diagnose myself, but whatever. I tremble with anxiety. I have panic attacks and stay up half the night. If I smoke a bowl, it relaxes me. If I feel myself starting to be too much for my skin to contain, I can smoke a bowl and calm myself before it gets out of control, but I don't lose that good feeling, that positive outlook – 'cause hey. It's gonna be all right, right, man? Yeah, dude. I still feel kind of high in spirits, but I can control myself.
And when I'm down, when the world looks bleak, I can smoke a little favour and it lifts me up a bit. It makes my mind too busy trying to carry on a conversation to plan a suicide, too relaxed to care about the down. Yeah, it doesn't solve any problems, but half the mark of depression is that there aren't problems necessarily causing the depression. You're just DOWN and can't see to bring yourself up. Weed gives me a break from that, lulls me into a stupor, and the next day the outlook can look better. Hope. Hope is the thing that makes us survive through everything, right? Whether it's chemical or mental, serious or mild, we survive because we're strong and we're strong because we have hope. I'm not trying to discount any type of depression or any level here. I'm not trying to say there's anything wrong with prescriptions either. I'm just saying that this is what's true for me – could be true for others considering I know other people who control their depression with weed too. It's not uncommon. I'm just putting a label to it.
Which isn't exactly some grand epiphany worthy of publication, of course. It's just this thing that sits inside me, something I wanted to get out. Besides, now when someone condemns you, you can say (truth or lie, who gives a fuck?): "I use it to control my depression."
Next up, my dissertation on casual sex. (I'm joking, of course, but now that I've thought about it, who knows?) Now I'm off to clean.
