#i smoke a lot i AM talking weed and pot its better than the regular stuff

[amourninghost]

Why'd you stand there laughing, holding your microscope? If you can't see the problem, then I guess there's nowhere to go

he likes to leave the house at 3am to touch grass (dissociate indefinitely)

[silvensstorycorner]

Things I wanted to say

My friends have been having a holiday/New Year's sleepover every year on New Year's Eve since high school. We'd see a movie, then go to one of our houses for hot pot, then hang out until the ball dropped, drinking sparkling apple cider and white grape juice out of wine glasses as we watched, chatting in a blanket pile oozing off the couch until we dozed off to Netflix and woke up to make a sleepy breakfast in pajamas. Things have adapted over the years: we don't go out to a theater for a movie anymore usually, and oftentimes not all six of us can be there, but it's still New Year's. And usually I love it.

I don't really know what happened in 2018. It was at Sophia's house that year (the regular spot), but for some reason, it was a lot more...all-out. She invited us plus boyfriends plus anyone we wanted to bring. She told me to invite my roommates so they all could meet them (my roommates declined). My family was invited. So Mom, Dad, my brother, and I all went this time instead of just me, and even though I had been going to her house for seven years and was comfortable with the normal level of unusual chaos that passed through its walls, this time I walked through the front door and very quickly felt...bad.

There were at least ten more people than just us six, some old friends (not as close but still friends) from high school, some I hadn't met before. Her three kid cousins were running around the place. The entire kitchen island was made into a bar, with twenty or thirty bottles of alcohol and a handful of types of edibles. Some were probably already tipsy. There was hot pot and fondue and trays of snacks and charcuterie and so much lying out for the picking.

It wasn't New Year's. It was a party.

And I do not like parties.

From that evening in 2018 for over a full 24 hours into 2019, I was choked up, holding back tears, not saying much most of the time because talking made it harder not to cry. My family left after a couple of hours because they weren't going to stay the night. I mentioned that I kinda might’ve wanted to go home, too, feeling like shit for breaking tradition but also currently feeling like shit from whatever new anxiety-inducing thing was happening to me, but my parents are bad at subtext and listening and laughed and asked what I was talking about and left.

I remember a few moments when I felt okay. Exchanging gifts, I think, and the following day, when only three of us were still there, we watched a bad low-budget horror movie. I felt content then. On the other hand, I lost hold and ended up crying three or four times, alone or in the dark or behind my hair so no one knew because no one likes a downer.

But then it's New Year's Day, and the sun is beginning to dip, and it's finally acceptable for me to go home. I go into the master bedroom to change out of pajamas into clothes, and Sophia's there, collecting things to go take a shower. I forget what small talk happened before because after a beat, she says, "Hey, are you alright? You didn't seem as joke-y earlier."

I choked up again because typical goddamn bodily response. We're turned away from each other, and I was either halfway through putting on a shirt or in a bra and holding my shirt. The silence stretched too long, so I squeaked out something. Probably "I'm fine." She looked over and asked if I was sure, and I broke.

She goes into mom friend mode and asked what happened, what was it, and I said it was nothing, I had been trying not to cry since first stepping into the house, and she immediately hugs me from behind as I'm standing there crying. My throat won't work without making the tears worse. I want to tell her I didn't know exactly what happened but I knew the pieces. That I had developed depression 4-6 months prior. That I had failed the semester because of it. That I was put on academic probation because of it despite my prior 3-year, 3.6 GPA. That I didn't know if my international internship and scholarships were in jeopardy. That I didn't drink because alcohol is repulsive, in scent and implications and cultural obsession. That I can smell the moment someone opens a bottle of wine from two rooms away. That the scent sometimes gives me a headache. That the smell of weed is even worse and gives me a migraine. That I was paranoid that college had changed my friends so much that they'd give me alcohol or weed without telling me. That talking about relationships and making innuendos and teasing me for not understanding them made me want to hide under a blanket. That even though everyone was nice and amicable, they weren't supposed to be here because it was our thing. That I don't like children and having to listen to and entertain her three cousins for twenty-four hours made my spine bristle. That I was afraid my discomfort around children would be taken as insulting her family. That the usual blaring kitchen stereo and the shouting from stairs and the scream singing and the mock nagging yells about how I was cleaning dishes slowly and wrong when I could've been not doing them at all really hit a nerve this time. That I was hiding this from my very best friends because I was confused and felt silly and illogical for not having fun at my favorite event of the year, the one time I see some of these people anymore after we spread out across the world for college and life, especially when everyone else was enjoying themself. That maybe everyone had grown up and outgrew me in college because they enjoy drinking and smoking and dating and sex and I don't, and I was just a buzzkill in an environment no longer fit for me. That I knew I was wrong. That most to all of this was a product of depression putting thoughts in my head and amplifying responses and that there was no way to anticipate or adjust to it, and that I didn't know when it would get better. That she wasn't a therapist and had her own troubles to worry about and I had no right to shoulder my own onto her, too.

But while all that and more is flying by in bits and pieces in my mind, my throat betrayed me and knotted up, leaving me standing there, clutching my shirt, staring up at the ceiling with tears streaming and breaths quickening to stuttered hyperventilation as my friend hugged me, and all I managed to choke out was that I didn’t like alcohol before the meager admittance activated a defense mechanism and shut me up with unabated sobbing.

Eventually, it subsided. She asked me if I wanted to take a shower instead, but I declined. I put on my shirt proper and sat on the bed, wiping my face while she took a shower with the door open so she could ramble nothings and tell me about new books she got and stuff her animation professors said.

We've never talked about it again, and I don't know if she told our other friends. Within the hour, one friend made another innuendo and laughed with a teasing reminder that sex and love exist and there's nothing I can do to stop it, and while Sophia didn't say anything directly, she looked at me and then changed the subject to something unrelated.

She checks up on me every few months, asking how I am with a little more insistence than someone who uses it as a casual opener.

The following year, I was worried whatever that was would happen again. I still had depression, I had failed one class for a second time, and both my childhood dogs and my grandmother had died within six months. I even put off going to Sophia’s a bit by going to see Star Wars in theaters with my family beforehand.

But when I walked in the door, the last to arrive, it was already better. My family didn't stay--they didn't even come in with me so they wouldn't rile up the dogs. There weren't crowds or kids or deafening music or a kitchen littered in liquor. There were just my friends, standing around the hot pot, with meats and gyoza and only one or two bottles of wine and sparkling juices and a whole roast ham.

I walked up to the table, bags in one hand and petting giant dogs with the other, but before I even get a greeting out, Sophia asked if I was okay. I froze, afraid my fears were that obvious and thinking they thought I was avoiding them and didn't love them anymore and feeling a weight begin to form in my throat. But she said my complexion seemed off or pale or something. I said I was fine, she said cool, the broth just started boiling, come get meat, and that was that.

That night, sitting in front of the fire, opening presents by the tree, I did cry again, because I was laughing harder than I had in a long time.

[crohnsawarenessproject]

‘The Healing Factor’ August 21st 2017 #thehealingfactor © Outhouse Cartoons/C.A.P 2017

When we first came back earlier in the year, I touched on the subject of prednisone. Something I needed to talk about; to put my thoughts down and start a communication with the community about one of the most common drugs used to ‘help’ with IBD. Today I’m back to bring up another topic, something that’s been on my mind and I’ve been wanting to talk about over the last year or more. As I’ve grown older I’ve realised that marijuana is like any other drug I’ve been taking medically. I was using this for a purpose; several in fact. And it’s my job as an advocate to talk about these sensitive subjects.

With more and more Countries/States/Provinces looking at legalizing marijuana, I feel like it’s time we start talking about it more openly. Letting others know about the benefits it provides for chronic illness.

Two of it’s major factors deal with pain and appetite. Though, today, I don’t use it much for pain unless I absolutely need to, I do use it commonly for my appetite, specially in more dire times like these hot summer months where the heat destroys my ability to eat. It’ll be my first line of defense against losing all of my weight and regressing into a major flare.

There are many forms of taking in marijuana and as I get older, I’ve been looking at healthier methods of ingestion.But before we go on, let’s just realise that this isn’t a pamphlet that you’re going to find in a doctor's office about the effects of marijuana. From here on out, i’m just going to call it weed and or pot. Cool? Cool. I don’t smoke cigarettes so in an effort to preserve my lungs I’ve started to cut my smoking of weed down and started taking edibles and capsules. The thing I didn’t realise at the time was that edibles and capsules were far more effective at fighting pain and providing appetite.

Okay, let’s talk about how weed works for a moment here because this is where a lot of people might be confused and what may turn most people away from it’s healing benefits. When you think of weed , you’re usually going to think about getting high. The stereotypical stoner or 60’s hippy like Cheech & Chong. But I’m here to tell you that there are different forms of weed and the big change in the last five to ten years has been the increased production of CBD heavy strains. THC (delta-9 tetrahydrocannabinol) is the compound that produces the psychoactive effect known as getting high but CBD (cannabidiol) is a compound that has significant medical benefits but lacks the ‘stoned/high’ effect. Your body has two receptors for cannabinoids called CB1 & CB2; CB1 is what the THC compound attaches to, dealing with movement, pain, mood, cognition, appetite and many other things. While CB2, what CBD’s attach to, deals more with the immune system, having more of an effect on pain and healing properties* such as inflammation, pain, anxiety, spasm effect and also helping fight cancer.

Now that we’ve got most of the medical jargon out of the way, let’s take it back to a more personal level. Let me tell you about how I used to take in weed, why I switched and how I relate its effects in a more down to earth message. I’ve been smoking weed for a better half of my life at this point. I started lightly, but as my health deteriorated I ended up smoking a lot more. There were times where I found myself smoking many times an hour, and this really started to bug me mentally. Not because of how others perceived it but due to my worries of how it was affecting my lungs. I didn’t want to help one thing while harming another. I take too many medications that already do this to a great effect and one of the benefits of weed is that it’s harmful side effects are next to zero. This is when I first learned about edibles and how they affected my body differently than smoking would. The way I like to explain it those that might ask is that smoking is effectively just tricking the brain into ignoring the problem where as in taking edibles provides substantial relief right to the problematic areas. Not to mention the longer duration of effectiveness that edibles provide over smoking. This is also just talking about THC related strains, and am hoping to start taking more CBD infused edibles as the future progresses and will make sure to be open with you all about my experiences. It is something that provides a lot of relief and over time with regular use of things like CBD oils and capsules can ensure a healthier life.

If you’re interested in trying this out to see if it will work for you, make sure to know what you’re looking for when you go into to your local (if you have them) dispensary (Higher CBDs) and don’t be afraid to ask questions. As with anything I talk about here, it’s good to know everything about your condition and how you (and your doctor) treats it. And as always, if you have any questions, feel free to either leave a comment or personal message me. I’m always around to talk.

Have you tried using weed to treat symptoms for your IBD or other health issues? Are you curious about trying? Tell us in the comments below.

*Referenced: http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/317221.php https://www.theweedblog.com/what-is-the-difference-between…/ https://www.projectcbd.org/gastrointestinal-disorders https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22815234 https://youtu.be/31SrjjgPbhU https://youtu.be/rk-YgQu0lF8