The cultural and commercial growth of the cannabis plant in modern society has been an intriguing, and frustrating, process to witness. The hemp industry currently has an array of discussions regarding the 2018 Farm Bill and the specificities of how to handle cannabinoids. When the Farm Bill came into effect in 2018, it legalized industrial…
Note: Almost two months have passed since this has been written.
This is not a post for social media, a passing scroll, nor is this a passing moment. The events that have taken place in the past week have transformed my soul, my entire being, and my entire meaning for being on this planet. As I’ve been writing privately, the same sentiment is repeated through different words — I will never be the same again.
On Sunday, as I write this I looked at my date and realized it is already Saturday. A week has almost passed and I have not noticed for the days and nights have blurred. I am grateful for the sleep even though every time my eyes open I am awakened with a pain that causes my body to shake uncontrollably and sometimes the tears pour and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes it’s a quiet “no”, and sometimes it’s an uncontrollable howl.
On Sunday, a soul I loved died from an overdose. It doesn’t feel real as I write these words since I am in the midst of processing the death, but I must speak through my pain, for this is too far from uncommon to be silent. He was and will always be far too special to not be spoken of. Yet I do not use names, because I do not
wish to.
There is no way to truly know anything in this life.
If you are in an argument, if you are hurt by someone, if you are sad, say something to the person you love. This life of ghosting and running and being angry is a privilege. For one day, you may never be able to reach them again.
No matter how many hours you try, no matter how many miles you travel, they will be gone.
As I and so many who loved him go through this, forever, I am very much reminded that I am and forever will be an addict. This is not shameful for me to say. It is powerful. If I said I was not, I could relapse. If I did not reach out for help and ask for people to care for me and tell people I am not okay, I could relapse. And relapse, as I learned Sunday, is not just a mistake. It’s death.
While I am not here to share details nor speak too personally on the matter in my life, I feel compelled to share how I have been able to keep my sobriety during this time of devastating grief. Also, this, writing this, helps me stay sober.
Accountability
I let everyone close to me know my sobriety wasn’t strong and I needed support. I was not alone for the first two weeks after the death. At all. Maybe five to ten minutes alone during the entirety of this time. I couldn’t trust myself. I told close people red flags I may try because the lurking addict, that is always there but now right behind the corner, would attempt self-destruction at any moment.
My mind did not want to speak of what my red flags were for then I would be held accountable and addiction does not want any responsibility. But accountability saved me on one night in particular.
I told someone very close to me that if I said I was going to *insert a specific club here* casually, don’t let me. A week later, I very casually sent a late-night text (the tone is casual but the text was sent in the Uber for I knew what I was doing was a game of Russian Roulette). “I’m going to xxx with xxx. Don’t worry. We just want to dance! I’ll call you later.” That pretty much sums it up. Immediately, a phone call, reminding me what I had said and kindly asking me not to go. I tell the kind man who is our Uber driver to please drop us off on the street. My friend, who is also going through the grief and I know very much wanted to escape too, and I continued our night in a safe space.
One song, one song at that club could have come on, and there would be a hundred ways of dying staring at me from a shelf.
Community
This is not the time to shut people out. When people ask(ed) if I’m okay, I say no. When they ask if they should reach out, I say yes. When I need help, I ask. It’s getting harder as the days continue to pass, but there is no timeline. I don’t know how long I will feel these waves of emotions that sometimes can be seen in the distance. At times I can anticipate the crash, but sometimes I turn around and I’m already being choked by the water. I’m already six feet deep, floundering to keep my head above, even when, at times, I just want to sink. Today (late May) was the first day I saw myself wanting to truly shut people out. But ‘tis selfish to do such a thing when people are worried and I am loved by them and I love them in return. Eventually, I took my phone off DND and replied to those I care so deeply for. I felt better.
Remove triggers you can control
I dabble in self-destruction by listening to songs that cause me so much emotion I bawl, scream, sing, whatever is needed at the time. It can be therapeutic, but not during this time. Listening to specific songs could cause me to walk to a bar in a trance. I couldn’t listen to music for the first few days. I didn’t know it was possible. To not want music. To not be able to have music. But, music is powerful. Thankfully I can now listen to music again but there are some songs I know I mustn’t ever play.
There are certain locations I do not dare visit. Certain people I do not wish to speak to. Certain social pages I will never click on again. And photos I may never gaze upon. At least not this year or the next, or even the next.
And finally:
Grit.
There’s no other way. It’s life or death. It is life or death.
If you are in San Antonio and struggling with addiction, please know there is a safe recovery meeting at Hash Vegan Eats every Wednesday at 7:30pm.
And please, please, stay away from black market drugs.
As any cannabis user who shares their experiences via popular online social media platforms, the inevitable happened this weekend: my account was disabled.
Thankfully when it happened, I was high (surprised?) and I was happy in my surroundings, happy IRL, so the digital inconvenience was merely a shrug.
While I am not surprised that my account was disabled, I am surprised that my original response was to merely appeal the decision with Meta and continue to censor myself even more so I wouldn’t lose my invisible space on this virtual planet of likes, comments and shares.
So this experience has led me to the question — why do we allow Big Tech to censor us, and come back? And we come back quieter. QUIETER. This is even worse. Having to silence ourselves at risk of social ostracization, and for some, a punch to our bank account.
The easy answer may be many of us may feel we do not have another choice. Instagram and TikTok have monopolized the social media industry and both platforms are strongly against cannabis. Yet we are in the cannabis industry, we want to connect and build our businesses, our brands, so what do we do? If we continue to allow censorship time and time again, are we saying we’re okay with it?
Texas has so many strong cannabis advocates. Advocates who fight and who do not stand in line with others, awaiting for mass approval. I feel through support on other platforms, we can begin to stop fearing the Big Brother aspects of the tech industry and the childish slap on the wrist when we smoke a fucking joint.
I’ve created a Discord server for the Texas cannabis community with hopes that we can find solace on a more private platform and not fear that at any moment all that we have built can be taken from us.
You can’t deactivate community.
What happens when we’re all censored? We change the game. We change the landscape. We mustn’t forget we hold the control.
I have also decided to use this platform, this website, far more often. It’s exciting as if I am back to the days of LiveJournal and Tumblr where humans would write and write and create and share. It feels more personal and I am finding it more comforting writing this at 12:12 (!!!) a.m. then scrolling through IG. To more late night writings where you have to go out of your way to read what someone has to say.
xoxo, canna chill
TLDR: Have a cannabis account.
After reading the very disappointing blog post from Texas Cannabis Collective regarding how no Texas Republicans voted in favor of the MORE Act -…
I lose myself in the trees. The gentle swaying of branches touching, leaves floating to the ground. Utter silence until a bird talks to…
I fear my depression is returning. When I awaken, my eyes feel glazed, my heart beats slowly, and all I wish is to close my eyes until the next morning sun. Maybe then I will open my eyes to a brighter day. Walking to the fridge to fill my empty glass with water is a task, opening my front door to step out into the world feels almost impossible. Thankfully I have a partner who helps me during these times, one who puts my needs first, but the burden is heavy and I wish to do my part to heal the parts of myself only I can heal.
As someone who wishes to create healing retreats for others in which we find peace and solitude together, I find myself hesitant to write these words, but healing from depression and speaking of it is very important, I feel. For the sadness causes you to feel so completely alone, with nothing to look forward to, nothing to take you from this place of emptiness that wallows in your stomach, causing a painful ache.
But we do have social media. We have television. We have movies. We have socially acceptable vices that we place in front of us when our emotions are moving downward. Bad day at work? Your favorite show is waiting. Feeling alone? All your friends Instagram stories are within your fingertips.
But these are mere band-aids that do not begin to heal any part of the actual problem. Our addiction to technology and our mindless consumption of material that is not thought-provoking in the least, is leading us into this world I fear to be a part of.
I’d like to end on a happier note. At the beginning I mentioned healing, holistic retreats together, and this is something I truly want to manifest and am working towards. Perhaps the depression and anxiety I have felt my whole life is teaching me how to help other heal from such paralyzing ailments.
Today I went on Instagram Live via @canna_chill! I was chillin’ on my porch and had an idea I’ve had many times before which was to get on live, smoke it up and talk about meditation and breathwork – connect. However, this day, I put my idea into action and set up my bedroom for a quick smoke sesh, chat + guided meditation. What I expected to only be a 10 minute live ended up being over 20 minutes due to engagement with the audience! After the 10 breath guided meditation and an additional hit, I felt sky high.
However, about, maybe an hour or so later, perhaps even sooner, I began to feel down. The high of connecting with other beings and successfully working towards a future goal had dissipated and I was left with a numbness, just staring at the far north wall in my bedroom. What I had accomplished no longer felt like anything at all. And it fucking sucked.
The day continued into the evening and the numbness remained. Around 9 p.m. I took a shower and rediscovered Rainbow Kitten Surprise and my happiness was restored. Now when I ponder of the events of today, I feel happ(ier).
But that’s emotions, man. We’re always ebbing and flowing, going through the ups and downs, and it will never end. It’s equilibrium. It’s everything.
If you didn’t catch the IG Live, no worries at allll. You can find it here. I plan to do it much more often because in the midst of the live, in the present moment, I was happier than I had been in a while.
Thank you to everyone who joined!
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Hi(gh), my name is Alyssa + I am a cannabis advocate residing in San Antonio, Texas.
May 29, 2024
November 17, 2022