Happiness

Pursue that happiness!!!

     Ok! First off, happy pride month, ya'll. I might be the straightest guy since the invention of the line, but that doesn't mean I don't love each and every one of you! Don't be afraid to be who you are, and if people don't like it, fuck 'em 💪🌈.

    If you haven't already noticed, I'm peeling a burnout Fast & Furious style from my last post, so strap in for a big 'ol blast of happy 😀😆! Today marks one full, glorious month of sobriety! I woke up feeling rested today for the first time since this journey began, and I'm going to use every ounce of motivation I'm feeling to tell you that it does get better.

    This has been quite possibly the most intense month of my entire life. The universe ✨🪐 has communicated with me in ways that it never has before, and it's been both surprisingly beautiful and utterly horrifying at the exact same time. But I'm starting to see that shiny, bright light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. The nightmares are still there, but they are muted and tolerable, just like the USA's most recent former president (Sort of. Will he every truly be tolerable?? Find out on next week's episode of American Ball Z!).

    If you also haven't already noticed, I'm in a goofy mood 😏. And I love it! I haven't felt this giddy since I discovered that butterfly feeling when you meet someone you know you're gonna love the shit out of unconditionally.

    As I write, I'm stuffing my face with salad, mozzarella sticks, and garlic bread because the doctor told me I need to gain quite a bit of weight back, due to years of appetite suppression from smoking weed. And gain weight I shall 😈. Hopefully not to a dangerous extent 😅, but I could certainly use 20 or 30 pounds of pure fat on these skinny bones.

    Anyway, I want to take this moment of clarity to encourage all who are struggling with addiction 🍺🌿💊👤: If you take away only one thing from this blog, please let it be that it DOES get better. It's going to take some time, and boy, oh boy is it going to be rough for some of you. But it absolutely, positively, 110% will get better. And when you start getting closer to the "better" than you are to the "worse", you'll be so freaking grateful that you did it. It will be something to be proud of. Something to look back on and say, "Mwahaha! Silly demons, addictions are for kids." 

    I have so much love in my heart for all of you right now, and I will try my best to hang on to this feeling as long as I can...💜💜💜  

     

    

Nightmares

Don't let the nightmares break you...

    💀Warning... this post might be a little spooky... and inappropriate for younger readers.💀

    Alright, so, tomorrow marks 3 weeks of official sobriety (go me!).

    During the day 🌞, I'm feeling great, for the most part. There are of course bad days here and there but in general, my diet, energy levels, and motivation are all starting to improve. At night 🌜, however, I embark on my own little personal tour of Hell 👿. For the record, I don't believe in such a place, but if I had to imagine what it was like... well, my dreams give me a pretty good idea.

    Before I get into this, I just want to make it clear that I am not writing this post to scare you (although it might). I am not writing this to deter you from getting sober. I'm not even 100% sure what my intentions are with this one... I guess maybe I just want to drive home the point that quitting weed can actually be really fucking intense, and I that I feel like said aspect is missing in a lot of ways from the conversation about marijuana.

   According to a website I scoured at 3 am the other night, nightmares are often a part of quitting, especially for those who have been long time, heavy smokers (And I'd say I was an extremely heavy smoker):

"Is there a connection between nightmares, dreams and weed abstinence? According to research, there appears to be a connection attributed to neurobiological findings emerging from the discovery of the brain’s cannabinoid receptor system. Cannabis Withdrawal Syndrome (CWS) now included in the DSM-5, is a clinically recognized syndrome comprised of a constellation of symptoms affecting heavy pot smokers who quit weed. Criteria for diagnosing CWS include:

Irritability/anger

Aggression

Lack of appetite

Anxiety/nervousness

Depression

Insomnia

👹Disturbing dreams (these can be true nightmares or merely vivid dreams)👹

Physical signs of cannabis withdrawal syndrome include stomach pain, night sweats, chills, low-grade fever, and shakiness. Researchers aren’t sure if intense dreaming after quitting weed is due to the symptoms themselves, disruption of neurotransmitter release within the brain’s sleep center or a combination of both."

    To be clear, I've always had a problem with nightmares. Even when everything in my life is just peachy 🍑, I still tend to have them pretty frequently. However, certain things seem to make them much more vivid and horrifying. A lot of prescription drugs 💊 seem to have this effect on me, and now, I've found that getting clean has that same effect.

    The rest of this post is going to consist of two nightmares that I had over the last two nights. I started keeping a dream journal a few nights ago, because A) I know my brain is currently tasked with re-wiring itself after close to twenty years of substance abuse, and I thought that writing my dreams down may help it to understand and streamline the process, and B) Hopefully I'll get a good song or something out of it.

    The following is almost exactly what I wrote down in my journal, other than the fact that the names of the people involved have been changed for anonymity. If you know me well enough, you can probably figure out who's who, and that's ok. Just please be respectful of people's privacy. Sorry if it's a bit confusing at times; I'm going to try to write it here almost word for word, just as I did right after waking up in a bit of a haze. There may be a few notes strewn about to give you guys a better sense of things. The second one is actually somewhat tame, compared to a lot of the others I've had recently, but still had an air of discomfort and anxiety throughout. Here we go... buckle up.

    

    

    5/24/21 (Woke at about 12:41 AM, after falling asleep around 10:30/11:00 PM)

    Walking home? Definitely lost. Keep finding myself on rooftops somehow that lead to nowhere.

    Some girl's dog pukes on my foot (I thought I was wearing my Docs, when I looked down I was wearing my green adidas sandals which I hardly ever use) *Note: This struck me as very odd, after thinking about it. I literally never wear sandals and I haven't even looked at those things in like 6 months. Weird. 

    She felt really bad, she said she "liked metal and stuff too". Took me down to this nice basement/bathroom with some other girls who also seemed nice.

    We were talking and laughing a lot while I cleaned my foot, shit was really stuck and wasn't coming off.

    After a bit, a group of guys came down, and one of them (the "boss", as I perceived him) said, "Ok, I think we need to have some guy time..." in a very menacing and evil voice that immediately sent chills up my spine.

    Girls looked kind of scared and left (not sure if they were in on it or just trying to be nice).

    After that, it got pretty uncomfortable/scary.

    Girls leave, guys start harassing me.

    Several of them (the guys I mean, 10 or so).

    Don't remember exactly what they were saying, but they were touching me and making fun of me to an extreme. At one point, boss starts staring at me unblinkingly, playing some weird music on his phone, and touching himself.

    I eventually was able to leave, but on my way out, a skateboarder gang surrounds me and also begins to harass me.

    Seemed to be led by a small, blonde girl (*I don't think she was one of the girls from before). She was very predatory in nature.

    All I remember is them chasing me and saying things like, "Come back, little genofly!!" and, "You're just a little genofly, like us." They were laughing maniacally and I felt like an animal being hunted.

    Suddenly could not find an exit, as every way out was blocked by some sort of fence that looked like it led to a restricted factory-type area.

    Dream ends with skateboarder gang getting more aggressive and closing in, almost catching me.

    *I was obviously curious as to what the heck a "genofly" might be. It does not appear to have any particular meaning, although a quick search revealed there are several social media profiles with that name. Anyone???

    5/25/21 (Woke at 3:50 AM, after falling asleep for the second time around 1 AM)

    I swear I've had this dream before. Possibly right after I moved back to CO. Obviously some things were different, as there were people and events being portrayed that were not a part of my life four years ago. But I swear I've had a very similar dream before, and I even say so in the dream itself.

    Van (*a good friend of mine) and I are driving somewhere (in my Mom's car? The white SUV?) and we somehow drive the car into this building called, "The Palace."

    Before we left for The Palace, we were somewhere hanging out, at like a house I think (not sure who's or any of that).

    We somehow set alarms off (*probably because we drove a freaking car into a building, go figure) and when we try to leave, security tells us we need to "go down to the security desk".

    Somehow none of that seems to matter though, and we start finding different members of his family inside. 

    First, his grandma, then his little sister Ginny and his step brother, Lucas, finally his step dad Alfred and his oldest sister, Gianna. For the most part, it's actually kind of fun for a while, although his grandma wasn't really his grandma (*as in, it didn't look like his grandma at all) and she keeps like falling over and seems confused and disoriented. For some reason, this is funny to us.

    The Palace is like a fancy hotel/bar/possibly casino? Very high ceilings and lots of gold and white décor. Bars and seating areas all over the place.

    After the grandma thing, we run into Ginny and Lucas, and we're talking and laughing with the pair and dancing with Ginny. 

    We part ways with those two and start exploring The Palace, but I realize I left my phone somewhere. We turn around to go find it and I actually said, "I swear this has happened before. I know where my phone is because this has happened before", as if I was experiencing deja vu in the dream, but still didn't know it was a dream.

    We go back to get the phone, and on the way I see Lizzy (*my most recent ex-girlfriend) at a corner of a bar with some guy (never see his face and don't recognize him). At first, she looks normal, and we make eye contact. I hear her say something like "And wow, there's my ex".

    As I move around this pillar thing that she's sitting behind, however, she changes completely. Her hair looks like a huge, clown afro type dew (blackish brown, with some red dye mixed in?). She's distressed, drunk, etc.

    She looks like she's having a bad time with this guy and I lean in and say, "Lizzy, if you ever need a friend, I'm here."

    And then suddenly we're outside for a moment, just her and I, on the sidewalk near the parking lot, and she says something like, "Oh yeah, you're there for me" in a sarcastic tone. "You just unfriended me..." (*I did recently unfriend her on Facebook) She is really drunk and really upset.

    Things get fuzzy there, but somehow I end up with a bunch of her jewelry (punk/goth style chains and necklaces and the like) and Van and I are back inside The Palace, sitting at a table with Alfred and Gianna having a nice conversation.

    All of a sudden, I somehow accidentally get one of the clasps from Lizzy's chains stuck on my front tooth. I take it off to find more are now stuck. I get a little panicky, start trying to pull them off, meanwhile everyone at the table is kind of shocked and horrified, asking me if I need help.

    I wake up.

    Overall, not particularly scary, per se (*compared to my dream standards, I guess), until the last bit. Most of the time, Van and I are having fun, with moments of panic and fear punctuated throughout. I think I remember The Palace being in a mountainy, woodland area (*a lot of my really intense dreams seem to be in a similar setting).

    So there you have it, folks. I hope I didn't fill your tanks with too much nightmare fuel, and I hope you're not scared to be in the same room with me after reading this 😅. I have always found dreams to be absolutely fascinating, scary or not. After re-reading and typing these out for the blog, I've made a lot of connections to recent events in my life that were clearly being portrayed in dramatic fashion throughout these adventures.

    Thanks for toughing it out if you made it this far, and I hope at the very least, this post can serve as a deterrent for people who smoke as much pot as I did. Like I said, I'm almost three weeks in, and still, the unusually vivid dreams are still going strong. I love you all, and for now, I'm happy to be awake...💜💜💜

https://fherehab.com/learning/nightmares-while-quitting-weed (*That website I was surfing, they have some great info about quitting marijuana)

     

    

     

    

    

    

         

    

    

    

 

Lows (And how health can help)

Health happens... If you let it...

    Well, it finally got to me.

    The highs ☝ I've been experiencing over the last two weeks gave way to some deep, devastating lows 👇. The previous 36 hours or so were pretty rough. For no apparent reason, I started feeling depressed, unmotivated, and empty. I expected this, and I'm quite surprised it took this long. But even though I was prepared for it, it still sucked. A lot. And when I'm feeling low, I get really irritable. 

    This morning when I got to my car, there was a homeless guy doing some heinous shit across the street 😵. He had his cart full of garbage 🚲 parked in the middle of the road, and it appeared he was filming a video with a fancy car in the background that I can obviously assume he doesn't own. I stood there and watched him, fixated, as my cigarette burned without attention. He was getting weird with it. He reminded of a teenage girl who just got her first smartphone; throwing peace signs and moving the camera around in a flowy, music video-esque style. At one point, it looked like he put his phone/recording device right up to the window and was filming the inside of the car. 

    Now, even though it was a semi-alarming thing to witness, on a normal day, I would've rolled my eyes, got into my car, and drove off. Because he's homeless. I've always felt terrible for homeless people, and I know that if I draw attention to them, they're very likely to be in for a bad time. But today, the lows got the best of me, and I snapped.

    "Hey...YO!!", I yelled, in the opposite of a friendly tone. "What're you doing, dude??". He started to respond, but before he could I added, "You better get your fucking ass moving before someone calls the cops." And with that, the whimsical merriment that was on his face just moments before vanished, without a trace 😑. He stared blankly at me for a second before shuffling away from the center of North Pennsylvania Street.

    I felt bad as soon as I got in the car. I never feel great after yelling at someone 😤, even when they deserve it. I have to say, in my defense, that guy was asking for it. As I drove off in the opposite direction of the chaos, I peeked through my rearview to find that he had left his trash cart 🚲 in the middle of the road, and was continuing his broadcast on the other side of the car, near the sidewalk. I let out an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, and thought, "Whatever idiot, I got shit to do."

    Lucky for me, I actually did have shit to do, which is not the norm for me lately. My first stop was to meet my grandparents for lunch, and grab some clothes I had left at their house last time I was there. We went to IHOP 🍮🍩, where I took absolutely no pity on a breakfast combo with chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, bacon, potatoes... the whole shebang. It was delicious, and my grandparents were getting along and in good spirits, which helped to lift mine.

    The reason I decided to meet them on this particular day, was because I had two appointments scheduled at the big hospital complex near their house: One for my first COVID-19 vaccine shot 💉, and two, to see my primary care provider about the episodes of vomiting and diarrhea that led up to me embracing the sober life. I had been pretty nervous about both the shot and the PCP meeting, but by the time I left the doctor's office, I felt loads better.

    Thankfully, the doc doesn't think I have any serious issues to worry about, and the bloodwork seems to concur. She's going to hook me up with a nutritionist 🍒🍌🍎 (because I haven't the slightest clue what "eating right" means), and I may end up doing some physical therapy to help with my shoulder problems. Overall, I seem to be in decent health, and for that, I'm so incredibly grateful.

    The one thing she couldn't stress enough, is that I MUST stay sober. She thinks that the episodes I had are simply my body's way of telling me to cut the crap. And if I start using again, they might very well come back. And I fully agree. We've only got one life to live (as far as we know), and I refuse to waste mine feeling like that homeless dude's garbage cart 🚲. I left the hospital with a renewed sense of purpose, and for now, the lows 👇 are back to highs ☝. Or mediums 👈👉, at least.

    Thank you, readers, as always, for your unwavering support 💜💜💜 

             

       

    

    

Identity

My identity...

    One of the hardest things about getting sober is coming to terms with your identity. I chose the picture above for this post because, although it's pretty old and a bit juvenile, it's who I am. I'm a stoner. I'm a smoker. I'm a lone wolf, a rebel, a punk rocker, and I hate rules and society. I will forever be all of those things, and getting sober won't change that. 

    What it has done for me though, is change the way I relate to those pieces of my identity. No matter how many weeks or months or years I go without smoking pot, I'll always be a stoner. I'll always have that same curiosity about drugs that I had when I was a kid. But what I've realized is that I don't have to let my body be destroyed because of it.

    I'm just a human being. My mind contains only my own memories, thoughts, and learned behaviors. Sure, I can change small stuff here and there, but I think it's extremely rare that someone's personality actually goes through a complete and total overhaul. 

    When you're doing drugs constantly, it's natural to think that you need to change everything about yourself if you want to get clean. And that's because your identity becomes so closely intertwined with substance use that you can't see how you could get clean without modifying your whole personality.

    But I'm telling you, you're overthinking it. It's actually kind of the opposite, if you ask me. You need to accept who you are, and figure out how to be a sober version of that person. Not a better version, or a happier version... just a sober version. For someone who abuses drugs, the drugs become a crutch. When you take them away, you're left with nothing but your problems, and no healthy way to cope with them.

    For me, it's loneliness, for the most part. When I quit doing drugs, I was left with a big, black, gaping hole of lonely. But soon enough, I began to think, "What can I do to plug this hole that doesn't involve drugs?" And that, depressing as it may sound, is the real change that takes place. Instead of using marijuana to keep my loneliness at bay, I started to be proactive about it.

    And lo and behold, the universe heard me, because I was finally brave enough to ask the question instead of hiding from it. What I mean to say is, I made a friend this week. A friend who is also getting sober. I overheard her talking to her friend, and I decided to talk to a stranger. Which, if you know me, is not something I usually do. And it worked. We've been hanging out the last couple days and supporting each other, and shit... it's awesome. I know that making a friend may seem arbitrary to some of you, but to me, it's a big fucking accomplishment.

    So I'm still all of those things that I mentioned in the first paragraph. But without my crutches holding me back, I can now be other things too. I'll always be a loner, but maybe I can make some friends who like me for me, and not because I'm drunk or high. I will always hate modern society, but maybe I can learn to love a few members of it. These things may seem small, but without getting sober, they would never have been possible.

    I'm excited to find more ways in which I can reconcile my identity, and I hope that through your sober journey, you learn to love yours just a little more than you did before 💜❤💜     

 

    

Compromises

Don't do it...

    It's been ten days since I've allowed any drug (other than nicotine) to enter my body 💪. I think my detox period is over, and the healthy food I've been eating is starting to reveal to me its incredible power. Sounds great, right?

    💥WRONG💥. This is when it gets hard. This is when the only motivation left is your own thoughts and the acclamations of friends and family. My stint in the ER is but a dream. Everyone is impressed by my newfound energy, clarity, and demeanor.

    But last night was tough. I was on the verge of compromising. Those little demons finally found a flaw in my defenses. They're growing restless. "I think I deserve a beer and shot," I mused. Alcohol was never a serious issue for me, so as long as I'm not smoking pot, what's the problem? Then my conscience chimed in: "Don't do it! Ten days is not enough! You can do so much better than that!". 

The demons didn't like that. "Oh, c'mon, you deserve it.", they said. "You just need a little something to get through this boredom 😇." 

    And it's at this point that I start to get angry. Angry at myself for creating a situation in which "just one more" could be the beginning of a relapse. Angry at the universe for creating "too much of a good thing." Angry that I can't go ten days without an epic battle erupting within the core of my existence.

    But I did it. I fucking did it. For once in my life, I refused to compromise. It wasn't easy, and it took about an hour of staring vacantly through my computer screen while my two personalities traded blows... but I did it. And today, I am proud. I am powerful. I am back in control 🙌.

    I can't honestly tell you what's different this time. I wish I had some hidden method to share with you; some eureka moment that we could all experience together. But I don't. All I know is, this time, I'm doing it. Every second ⌛⏳ of every goddamn waking moment. Maybe it was the almost dying thing. Maybe it's just that I'm a little older and a little wiser. Maybe it's just that I want it more now than I did before. Whatever it is, I'm so grateful for it, and I hope that reading this will give others a little bit of the inspiration that I've finally found.

    Keep at it, stay strong, and whatever you do, don't make compromises. ❤❤❤  

         

Demons

 

Elliot and his biggest demon...

    

    "There's a saying. The devil's at his strongest while we're looking the other way, like a program running in the background silently, while we're busy doing other shit. Daemons, they call them. They perform action without user interaction. Monitoring, logging, notifications. Primal urges, repressed
memories, unconscious habits. They're always there, always active. We can try to be right, we can try to be good. We can try to make a difference, but it's all bullshit. 'Cause intentions are irrelevant. They don't drive us. Daemons do. And me? I've got more than most. Daemons... they don't stop working. They're always active. They seduce. They manipulate. They own us. And even though you're with me even though I created you, it makes no difference. We all must deal with them alone. The best we can hope for... the only silver lining in all of this... is that when we break through, we find a few familiar faces waiting on the other side."

    

   👿 Demons 👿 We all have them. I've been really into this show called, "Mr. Robot" lately, and I really like the way it deals with inner and outer demons. The main character, Elliot, suffers from morphine addiction, amnesia, and his own inner demons, which manifest primarily as his dead father. I find this interaction between Elliot and his demons to be particularly intriguing. His Dad sometimes forces him to do horrible things, in order to further Elliot's own ambitions. And although Elliot realizes how powerful this can be, he also strives to rid himself of his curse in order to achieve his goals in a morally acceptable way. 

    The truth is, as ugly as they are, demons can be a source of motivation. Pain, suffering, heartache... all the negativity in our lives forces us to constantly seek the opposite. As far as addiction goes, this same truth can apply, if you let it. I've come to see each of my addictions as its own little demon. There's the marijuana demon, who lures me in with the promise of transforming the mundane; the alcohol demon who tries her damndest to convince me I won't make friends without her; the hard drug demon who tricks me with a false sense of spiritual connection... and of course, the cigarette demon... the most terrifying one of all, because he promises nothing but expects supreme loyalty.

    But I think the recurring theme of communicating with your demons, instead of just letting them run in the background, is important when it comes to addiction. Because they ain't going away. That's the thing with demons; they're immortal. They will never die. But neither will your inner light. And they know that. That's why they throw every artifice in the book at you to try and convince you otherwise. I think you'll find that if you stand and face them, the two of you can actually have a constructive conversation. The demon will flail and struggle, but if you keep at it, it will start making compromises. It took up residence in your soul, and it can never leave. But you can limit its power. And that, really, is what conquering addiction is all about.

    For me, they exist not just in the form of drug addictions, but as my anxiety, my failed relationships, and my self-doubt. If you are suffering from addiction, getting clean may present you with a lot of these other beasts, and dealing with them may very well be the difference between being successful or not.

    I encourage you to be gentle with yourself during this process. Again, I'm trying to stay away from religious language here, but repentance is an important part of getting sober. Admit your faults. Put your sins out there for others to see. If you do this from a place of positivity, honesty, and responsibility, I think you'll find that it makes letting go of the drugs a little easier.

    That's all for today, thanks for your continued support everyone 💜💜💜

          

Honesty

 

Feeling things again...

    

    Let's talk about honesty for a minute, because I believe it's a crucial piece of my sobriety puzzle.

    How often do you lie? I bet most of you can't even be honest with yourself about that! And I'm not saying that to make you feel guilty; just to make you think. Sometimes lying actually has some benefits. It can save you time by not having to explain every aspect of a situation, and sometimes it can spare someone negative (or even positive) emotions that aren't really necessary. In fact, if we told the absolute truth about everything all the time... well I'm not sure I'd want to live a world like that.

    However, when it comes to getting sober, the best thing you can do is be honest. In my last post, I talked about my trip to the ER. What I didn't mention, was that I decided not to tell the ER doc that I had taken a little too much molly the weekend before. My grandparents were sitting right there and at that moment, the last thing I wanted to do was make them feel disappointed in me. In hindsight, that was pretty stupid, as it may have factored into my diagnosis. But the next day, I woke up with purpose. I then decided it was important for me to tell my grandparents and my parents the truth, and man, their reception was amazing.

    Never underestimate love. Love gives us the ability to look past peoples' flaws and see the good in them, even when they're being bad. I know it seems terrifying in the moment, but I urge you to have some faith in the people you love. They will understand, I promise. It may take some time, but they'll understand. They might be angry with you, but they will probably want to help more than anything else. 

    The three things I lie most about are:

1. My substance use 🌿💀

2. My time and availability 🌞🌙

3. Money 💰💲

    I've never been the kind of person that admits when money mistakes are made in my favor. Since I've been sober, that has changed. I played a poker tournament with my grandfather at his neighborhood clubhouse last Friday, and when the guy running the show gave me way too much change for my buy-in, I didn't say anything... at first. The old me would have just said, "Hell yeah! Free buy-in for me!", but after thinking about it for a second, I decided to go and give him the money back. After doing so, I felt really good about it.

    Availability is another thing I tend to lie about, which is ironic, given the fact that I consider myself a pretty lonely person. I think it has a lot to do with the sheer laziness that I felt from smoking pot all day. I'm already putting myself out there much more than I was before, and I hope to bring some new people into my life who I don't feel like I have to lie to about my schedule.

    And of course, last but not least, the reason we're all here: I've lied a lot about my substance usage. Not so much in the sense that my family doesn't know I smoke pot and do drugs and drink occasionally; it's always been more about the amount I was using. My Mom or Dad would call and say, "So, how are you doing with the cigarettes and pot?", and I would say something like, "Pretty good! Been cutting back lately." SO not true. 😅 I was never cutting back. But again, to tie this back to my original point, I thought that by lying to them, it would spare them some negative emotions that they didn't need to experience.

    But after the raw and intense honesty I've exhibited this week, I'll never go back. Not only did I find that my family had nothing but positivity for me in return, I found that it was pretty cathartic, too. It makes you feel powerful to communicate with that much veracity. Although I'm not and never will be religious, I imagine that what I did this week is similar to a confession. It really does feel good to put your sins out there in the world instead of keeping them locked up inside. 🔑🔒

    That's all for today. Thanks again for all the support, it's really incredible. Keep on keepin' on, all you beautiful people. ✌