Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Quitting... for good this time? Part two.

When smoking joints, it's a steady build to a good buzz. When you take weed in a pipe or bong, it's a big quick hit and is quite different from the slow build-up joints offer.

I've known for a long time that I'd rather smoke joints or eat brownies than take those big hits. I don't like the overwhelming feeling that pipes and bongs bring. But that knowledge was brushed to the back of my mind in buying the pipe. My underlying concern at the time was still being able to smoke weed without the tobacco that goes with smoking joints.

Having had at least one medium-sized pipe an evening for the past week, I did hear my brain trying to tell me I should stop, but I'm practiced in ignoring and redirecting those thoughts so they barely registered.

Last night, however, a thought occured.

I've been looking after a friend's house over the festive period, and she's due back today. After taking a small pipe last night, I came back into the house, fought the urge to tidy up and told myself to chill for a while. I had a couple of episodes of Peep Show to watch and, as I hadn't had a chance to relax since I finished work, I thought I'd sit and watch TV for an hour.

On sitting down and starting the recording, I tried to relax but my mind was firing. Normally, when feeling this, I'd play my guitar or bash out a game on my PC, but no such distractions were available, so I tried to concentrate on the TV, to no avail.

The thought occured that I'd like to hang out with my friend when she gets back from her break. I wondered, what would be my answer when she asked how I was?

Instantly, my response came to me: "I'm in trouble... I really need to get rid of this weed, it's breaking my mind."

This came as a bit of a shock. I'd actually let this thought through, I'd allowed it to be said. "This must be serious!" I thought, and got up off the sofa to went to my stash.

I spent thirty seconds arguing internally about whether it'd be better to donate the drugs to a friend, that I shouldn't waste what was effectively £20 worth of hash. But my stronger mind prevailed and I thought it more mentally significant to dispose of it instead of passing its effects onto someone else.

So I did it. I opened the bag and poured it away. I destroyed the pipe and papers, changed the bin and put it out with all the other rubbish.

I've done this in the past with alcohol, to some effect. Not absolute success, but it certainly leaves an imprint in my mind that affects the way I think.

I hope these actions do the same. It's obvious to me now that I must only do weed in moderation, rarely. I've been making an effort to listen to my brain more often, and I feel like with this issue, I've succeeded.

Now to get my addictive eating under control.

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