"God bless you pot," I think to myself. I'm cutting up pizza-chicken bacon ranch if you're curious. I know it's going to be a delicious pizza. The green stuff makes that happen and I love it. I feel good about being stoned because I finally feel good.
"Your therapist doesn't think you should smoke." The voice in my head is such a killjoy. My therapist doesn't want me smoke. She's not "opposed to it" but she also talked about statistics she felt strongly about that seemed...unimportant to me. I feel guilty though. Like I've been lying to her and she's gonna find out and I'm going to get in so much trouble. The guilt sits there and grows every time I take a toke.
"Ok. She might not think it's working, but she's not you and you are the only one that knows if something is working or not. Besides, people have been smoking marijuana a lot longer than they've been swallowing pharmaceuticals. Also? You can just not tell her. People have been doing that a long time too."
I have this brief conversation with myself as I finish cutting the pizza into 8 even triangles. I've rationalized a behavior by convincing myself it doesn't matter what I do, as long as it's what I want. There's a part of me that knows that's exactly what I should be doing but another part, a louder part thinks that's awfully selfish. So I ignore it.
Monday, August 26, 2019
Sunday, August 18, 2019
Confrontation ( A CursiveVerses Post)
She hates me
"I can't believe this. I can't believe how fucking irresponsible you are. Do you even know what you've done? You should fucking know better than this!"
She's right.
"You are fucking ruining EVERYTHING, don't you get that? NOTHING will ever be the same!"
She's so angry. I've never seen her like this before. What am I going to do?
"What are you going to do?"
I have no idea. I'm so scared. I can't believe this happened. I can't tell her that.
"You just going to run like everyone else?"
Where would I go? Why is she crying ? I don't understand why she's so upset. Why is this happening?
"You can't just pretend this didn't happen. It's not going away."
I want to go away. I can't leave.
"Why are you even here?"
I don't know. I should go. She's sad now. Her eyes meet mine finally.
"Did you ever want...?"
No.
"I can't believe this. I can't believe how fucking irresponsible you are. Do you even know what you've done? You should fucking know better than this!"
She's right.
"You are fucking ruining EVERYTHING, don't you get that? NOTHING will ever be the same!"
She's so angry. I've never seen her like this before. What am I going to do?
"What are you going to do?"
I have no idea. I'm so scared. I can't believe this happened. I can't tell her that.
"You just going to run like everyone else?"
Where would I go? Why is she crying ? I don't understand why she's so upset. Why is this happening?
"You can't just pretend this didn't happen. It's not going away."
I want to go away. I can't leave.
"Why are you even here?"
I don't know. I should go. She's sad now. Her eyes meet mine finally.
"Did you ever want...?"
No.
Right Now
I can't tell if I"m reacting to the med change or if this is what it feels like to be happy.
But right now, I actually want to do things. With people. I want to go outside. I want to walk down the street and let the other person move aside instead of me.
My relationships are strong. It doesn't feel like I'm sucking their energy anymore. I don't feel like a burden. I believe people when they compliment me.
Right now it feels like I'm getting better. I left food on my plate today. People do it all the time but I've been in the Clean Plate Club since I was a kid. It's weird how hard it is to push away a plate with food on it. Years of hearing that children in other countries will die because of your wastefulness...well, I didn't want to kill anybody. The other point taken was that I wasn't going to waste food that was bought with hard earned money. So, I cleaned my plate. But not today.
When I feel anxious, I ramble and that's ok. I stumble over my words sometimes because my brain is going faster than my mouth. I usually interrupt myself, say nevermind and get all fidgety. That's ok too because I've surrounded myself with patient and loving people that will wait until I can say what I want to say. Like today when instead of giving up, I took a deep breath, sorted my thoughts and said what I wanted to say.
I got some blood tests back and all signs point to healthy. The results made me feel like I could flip off anyone including myself, that thought I was unhealthy because of my weight. Cholesterol, kidneys, blood sugar, all that stuff is fine. My doctor has no concerns and didn't bring up my weight at all. I am not unhealthy. Today, I accepted myself a little more.
When I have an anxiety attack, I can feel nauseous. I sometimes break out in a cold sweat or start shaking. I usually feel tightening in my chest and have trouble catching my breath. It feels like I'm going to die. I can't tell you how many times I've googled the symptoms of a heart attack. But I've learned that these are physical reactions to an emotional trauma. I won't have to google next time. Right now, I know I'm healthy.
But right now, I actually want to do things. With people. I want to go outside. I want to walk down the street and let the other person move aside instead of me.
My relationships are strong. It doesn't feel like I'm sucking their energy anymore. I don't feel like a burden. I believe people when they compliment me.
Right now it feels like I'm getting better. I left food on my plate today. People do it all the time but I've been in the Clean Plate Club since I was a kid. It's weird how hard it is to push away a plate with food on it. Years of hearing that children in other countries will die because of your wastefulness...well, I didn't want to kill anybody. The other point taken was that I wasn't going to waste food that was bought with hard earned money. So, I cleaned my plate. But not today.
When I feel anxious, I ramble and that's ok. I stumble over my words sometimes because my brain is going faster than my mouth. I usually interrupt myself, say nevermind and get all fidgety. That's ok too because I've surrounded myself with patient and loving people that will wait until I can say what I want to say. Like today when instead of giving up, I took a deep breath, sorted my thoughts and said what I wanted to say.
I got some blood tests back and all signs point to healthy. The results made me feel like I could flip off anyone including myself, that thought I was unhealthy because of my weight. Cholesterol, kidneys, blood sugar, all that stuff is fine. My doctor has no concerns and didn't bring up my weight at all. I am not unhealthy. Today, I accepted myself a little more.
When I have an anxiety attack, I can feel nauseous. I sometimes break out in a cold sweat or start shaking. I usually feel tightening in my chest and have trouble catching my breath. It feels like I'm going to die. I can't tell you how many times I've googled the symptoms of a heart attack. But I've learned that these are physical reactions to an emotional trauma. I won't have to google next time. Right now, I know I'm healthy.
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