When Is It Time to Quit Smoking Weed?

Clock at 4:20

I’m rather happy that I found this site. Here is my story….

I’m a 37 year old carpenter, and only parent to a 15 year old son. I started smoking weed sometime in high school… Aged 14 was my first encounter I believe, and by 15-16 much of my daily activities with friends evolved around excessive competitive skateboarding, smoking weed, and “hanging out.”

I was pressured into skipping grade 8 by my parents because I was a straight A student, star young athlete, blah blah blah lol. I was quite nervous and intimidated but I had two older brothers at the same school so figured I’d be fine. I became a tag-along for my two year older brother, who was now only one grade ahead. When I caught him and a few of our close friends smoking BTs of hash one day, rather than be shocked and appalled, I decided to give it a try and jump into their circle. We we hidden in the woods sitting on rocks in a circle… It was already oddly ritualistic. And then like so many bowls smoked since, all of my dreams, aspirations, goals, ambitions, successes, accomplishments, and everything else positive in my life went up in smoke…. some extremely quickly, while others smoldered, but eventually made me feel so poorly for myself that I would push them out of my mind by smoking more weed.

During my college years I had a rude awakening. I attended college twice because I was so smart lol. In fact I was so undecided on what to do with my life and lacked even an ounce of direction at that point that I first enrolled for print journalism. I figured I loved writing, and hell, if Hunter S Thompson could be a journalist on the cocktail of hallucinogens and drugs he was on then surely someone as quick witted, clever and intelligent as me could do it. It still makes me laugh. I was so stupid. I took a student loan for nearly ten grand and very quickly dove right in… into my same daily routines that is. It wasn’t long before I was no longer attend ding that course and blaming on the college for not letting me try safer programs two months into the first semester. It really wouldn’t have mattered which program I took.

After a year or two of the same old, I started having an unsettling problem. Every time I smoked weed I would start having ridiculous anxiety attacks. I would start freaking out thinking I was having a heart attack. It progressively intensified. I became embarrassed around my friends. I knew what the issue was. I wasn’t happy. I was disappointed in myself for not doing more with my life at that point. But then this became my new nightmare because I still actually wanted to smoke weed all the time. So I did. How ridiculous I must have looked to everyone. Hanging out with friends daily and smoking sessions. Then everything I would freak out thinking I was seriously dying and have to go home. Or for an exceptionally long walk. I would spend my entire buzz trying to reassure myself it was just the weed…like Craig (Ice Cube) in the movie Friday lol. I went through this a few times a day sometimes.

Eventually I had quit smoking weed. I had no choice or control over the matter. My subconscious mind and paralyzing fear did it for me. I had no withdrawals or anything. I never looked back. I only missed the friends I spent those years getting stoned with. Hell, I think I’ll always miss those guys.  I wish that was my happy ending…but the farce continues.

Shortly after stopping my life started improving. I went back to college for business sales, on another loan, and completed my first year. I then met my son’s mother. It was a whirlwind. We were both nuts. I took a job selling cars for Chrysler at the time. I had no idea why the dealership chose me to hire. I didn’t even have a license lol. I’m a bit of a smooth talker though, which is probably what did it.

Fast forward and the marriage was a grand total of 18 months long, 10 of which I was seeking a divorce order in court and representing myself. Irreconcilable differences lol. Or as I like to say, complete and utter stupidity.
Shortly after the divorce I left car sales over a difference of opinion with my boss. He was a crook, and I had ethical concerns with him. I don’t when it happened but I met an incredibly attractive and focused woman who I fell head over heels for. She smoked bonus in the evenings. I was eager to try at that point. She reluctantly shared and soon after we began to enjoy evenings together after work with a few puffs and incredible sex. She was ridiculously gorgeous. She began to get concerned about how much I was smoking. I had jumped right back into my old daily habit. But I had just spend 5 years abstaining. I didn’t care.

This could go on forever it seems. I will sum up the rest….

I’m now 37, 11 days from my 38th birthday. I’m smoking a gram a day minimum, as well as cigarettes and drinking coffee like I require it to live. I’m always tired, I have no drive or motivation 90% of the time. I am lucky to have a boss as understanding, or possibly patient a few forgiving as mine is. I have been working with him for nearly 7 years now and have missed more than my share of work. He has joked with me before about having more excuses to miss work than he’s ever even heard of someone using. In fact I’m writing this when I should be at work this morning.

I live with my gf who does not smoke anything and our combined 4 kids. I hide my use very well. My son is aware as I had to have a talk with him when we moved into an apartment our own a few years ago. My gf hates it. She enjoys a glass of wine here and there so I have compared weed smoking to that which can be logical, lol, but she argues that she doesn’t need to drink wine a few times a day and before and after any social event…not to mention sneaking around during such events. And of course she is right. But I continue to smoke… Constantly telling myself it’s the last bad like the guy who also commented here but making no further efforts to curb my usage.

I wish I could start having anxiety attacks like 15 years ago.

Weed has definitely and without a doubt shaped me into the man I am today. The problem is that I’m not happy with the man I am today.

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