How will I know when I’m successfully managing my weed addiction?
Easy: When I’m not using more than I tell myself to.
But how often am I telling myself to?
And there we have it: The cogs of the machine have wound and clunked into their final formation yet again; my questions have shifted form, landing me once more in the frozen abyss of the incessant and unanswerable: “When? How much? How often?”
A better question might be: “When will I learn to stop seeking exact timeframes and quantities?”
I once wrote this while high:
“Using weed about once a week feels like a good amount for now. It feels like something I could get myself to stick to…
“But writing that feels so wrong.”
I wrote this the next day (while high again):
“I hope I take what I’m writing seriously. It’s all supposed to result in me actually finding balance and control in the end.
“Why do I forget that?
“Do I trust myself?
“By no means am I asking you to trust me. I just wonder why I should trust my own cumulative assessment, which seems as always to be coming at me from every direction at once.
“My cumulative assessment is what I’ve been sharing all along.
“How can you actively trust and run with your own evolving cumulative assessment of yourself (which, of course, you see as you prepare to share your experience)?
“I have my own convictions, which I’m not sharing for you to try to follow. Not at all.
“For example, I don’t want my addiction to damage my family. You might not have a family.
“You might have completely different reasons for wanting to change.
“I’m basically just throwing my own convictions against a wall over time and seeing how they stick.
“That’s what I’m encouraging you to do as well.
“My intuitions are sort of like little blips of connection between various inner and outer worlds. Put together, each intuition is like a link in one of many connected chains, all of which are so long I can never see either end.
“My desperate search for some perfect timeframe or quantity is like trying to see both ends of every chain all at once. It’s truly impossible, especially since the chains are never fixed for very long.
“I once got high in my early twenties and wrote a poem. Part of it went: ‘Machines… Touch… Contact…’ I wish I still had the rest.
“I hate pride. I just want to be a normal human being. I find normalcy, contentment, and stillness valuable.
“Like I said, we all have our reasons.”
That’s it, right? I’ve followed my intuition to go public with my experience. Am I done?
Going public has shown me how my undeniable convictions are balanced amongst so many other aspects of my being, all of which are impossible to fully know, predict, or understand.
So I have no choice but to take my own next steps.
Am I ready?
There’s one more missing key, which we’ll discover tomorrow—the most important self-management step of all.