Confession 1; Self-Medicate : The Train to Numbville

All Aboard- the worlds longest train.

Come,welcome,let the conductor and long time member show you around the haze train.

I’ve been a member since 2003,when one summer night I experimented with what would become my apart of me , far longer than expected.

I didn’t want to show you around,once I open up there is no going back. If I bring you on this confession adventure you’ll know the truth about me,well part of it. Lately, the words have been bubbling up behind my lips,fingers pressed against keys,never really saying the words. Dont judge me, everyone always does.




How anticlimatic. Thought it would be more of a shocker. Writing it now just seems soo melodramatic. 

Recently I’ve come to realize how  my medicinal habit is just covering up my real problems. I never really gave much thought to it.


It gave me the escape I needed.

The numbing I craved.

The first time I smoked I was on vacation with my cousins, I can’t say they talked me into it (trust me ive been talked into some really stupid shit),but I was convinced.

Whoever said you dont get high the first time is a liar.  Or it could  have been the amount we smoked- I was fucking stoned. High off my ass and I loved it. The feeling was intoxicating,nothing I had ever felt before.

There was a calmness.

Returning home, I had to share this new,wonderufl information with my friends (I’ve also been known to be a bad influence)and we started smoking. My mother and step father smoke, so it was only a matter of time before I did. Did I even have a chance? I Started stealing weed from them;until I made my own connections.

If smoking at 13 wasnt bad enough, lets add sexual behavior to the list. Ahh the things I did when high. I regret some. I won’t  say all because without it I wouldn’t  have had amazing memories-well the ones I remember.

I’ve drank. I don’t  drink anymore, haven’t in a few years but I once did. Early teenagers years was filled with drugs and liquor and plenty of attitude. Lots of it. I don’t  know what i was searching for, but a part of it was a needing. I needed to be liked and wanted. So I took pills,smoked blunts and chugged out of pints.

Fall of 2004, I was hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. I chugged a mixture if 12 different liquors and washed it down with beer. I don’t remember all of that day.

I remember drinking from the bottle with an ex and some friends.

I rememeber mumbling to my friend,which turned out to be a garbage can- I recognized  that somehow in my wasted state and started walking.

I remember some guy waking me up from my passed out state in the grass, me mumbling something.

I remember entering a building (which turned out to be a friends job)passed out. I heard voices talking. Then I heard my mother.

Next thing you know I’m waking up hooked up to an IV,chalk coal over my mouth and still drunk.

I was drinking a week later,despite almost dying. Every weekend. Hard. I eventually decided to just stick with weed and gave up everything else.

Weed gave me the same thing liquor did without all the horrible side effects. I wasnt the stoner who just sat around all day and did nothing. I was out on a grand adventure and emotions weren’t involved. 

With weed I didnt need to feel anything. No aniexty, no sadness, no pain. Nothing. It was what I’ve been looking for. Soo smoke I did. If I had a dollar for the amount of times I came stumbling home, blood shot eyes  and a smile on my face I would at least have 150 dollars.

Sorry mom,oh and grandma.

I was a horrible teenager. Thankfully at 15 I got a serious boyfriend,who liked to smoke! What more can a girl ask for?

Fun fact: I’m super secretive; I’m  a loner, I’ve  had friends  but they werent real. And now I have no friends expect mj.

Ive come to realized I’ve never really faced any of my issues.

Fun fact: I hate emotions.  I don’t like talking about them or feeling them or displaying them.

I just smoke.

For fucks sake I’m  going to be 26! And I have the intimacy level of a 5 year old,sometimes. Eww you wanna hold my hand. Gross.

Or like the boyfriend says “cold hearted bitch, you have no feelings” I do have feelings, wayy down under, like soo deep you need a chisel and tweezers.

So what if my motto is ” I don’t care.”

At least the weed understands, it doesnt pressure me into talking about  feeeeelings. It leaves me in peace,letting me enjoy the hazy ride and the escape of my shitty life.

I figured me writing it is me facing my issues and for now thats good enough. Will I eventually quit? I mean if I want a good job I have to. Will I enjoy it? No but thats life. Ill probably take up drinking again.

Last fun fact: I get addicted easily.

So for now, the ride continues. I’ll  think about opening up emotionally more (gag)but it kinda feels too good plus I’m  just not ready to let go.