“Why do people take drugs? Not a mystery. It’s why they don’t take them all the time that’s a mystery.”

Jordan B. Peterson, 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos, p. 125

I need my girl, and her name is Cannabis. I’ve smoked it pretty much non-stop for the past five years, and I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it’s time for a break. Not a tolerance break. A real break. While I still have the will to do so. Now I know what you’re thinking, but trust me when I say that this is not some kind of anti-weed propaganda. You’ll hear no spiel from me about reefer madness, or how cannabis is a guaranteed gateway to harder drugs. As something of a libertarian, I’m very much in favour of bodily autonomy. I do not believe that what you do with your own consciousness in the privacy of your own home is the business of the state. Cannabis also helped me overcome a lot of social anxiety at a time when I really needed friends, and is a finer social lubricant than alcohol in my opinion. What’s more is that there’s absolutely no risk of a fatal overdose, and even the worst of its associated withdrawal symptoms are not life-threatening. However – and here’s the kicker – while it may not be traditionally addictive, habits certainly are, which might explain why around 10% of regular users develop some form of dependency.

That’s the thing about weed – the fact that it isn’t dangerous is actually kind of, well, dangerous. And if your tolerance is anything like my own, then there’s really no limit to how much you can take. As appearances go, you’re not living a terrible lifestyle either. But you are. You’re gradually chipping away at your own well-being, and in serious cases it can ruin lives. A friend of mine, Charlie (not his real name), was smoking an average of 3g per day, and often alone. He went on to have a manic episode, and had to stop using cannabis all together. This is not the case for everyone – Willie Nelson is living proof of this – but it’s a stark reminder of how even good things can turn sour if abused. I love cannabis, and that’s why I want to be able to enjoy it properly. Smoking it every day is not enjoying it properly. It’s not using it properly. It should be a social drug, not a solitary one. If you abuse cannabis, all the things it once helped you with will start to go the other way. But it’s hard to recognise that fact when you use it so heavily – a wake-up call is required. Mine should’ve been when Charlie lost his mind, or when I didn’t take my elderly father to hospital because I wanted to get high. But it turned out to be something a lot more simple. I wanted to be me again.

My use of cannabis has completely robbed me of ambition. I cannot tell you the amount of nights that I’ve wasted on the sofa, smoking myself sappy, when I could’ve been writing, or drawing, or anything else. I’ve done little to advance my career, and I’ve lost many of my former passions. I wish I could say that I quit as soon as I came to terms with this, but in truth I let it go on for several months after. The phrase “just one more time” was a constant mantra in my head, but those of you reading who smoke will know that’s never true. And so, with what little will I had left, I finally decided that enough was enough, and I made myself a plan to kick my habit. A few days later, I stocked up on food and supplies, then handed my wallet to my housemate and insisted that they hold onto it for at least a week. Now this is quite drastic, but if you do find yourself needing to do this, word of advice: do it when you’re still high. You won’t be so willing when you’re sober.

I’ve quit cannabis twice before. The first time, I had a much better outlook. I put this down to meditation and breaking free from an incredibly toxic relationship. For the first time in a long time, I was feeling really good about myself. I even had some leftover weed in my room for 3 or 4 months. I wasn’t tempted once. It just wasn’t necessary anymore. I think this was because it wasn’t a conscious decision to quit. It just happened. I was focused more on improving myself as a person. And that’s exactly what I did. It was like a happy ending of sorts – the point where the story should naturally conclude. But life is not some Hollywood movie (duh) – the story keeps going, and eventually the narrative changes again. Back into the woods we go.

The second time, I forced myself off. It was infinitely more difficult, and I was smoking again in less than a fortnight. I knew it would be better for me to quit, but when you’re high all the time, memories are like photographs. You remember how happy you were before, but it’s impossible to recreate that feeling exactly. So it’s easier to just give in. And hey, at least you’re guaranteed some short-term satisfaction.

The third time – this time – would be different. I had a support system in place, and decided I would write every time I had a craving. I ended up keeping a ‘Detox Diary’ to record my observations:

DAY ONE

• A.M: Feel flat, kind of ironed out. Half-high. I know the hell that’s waiting for me this evening.

• P.M: I’m smoking cigarettes to help – I hope my addiction doesn’t latch onto something else. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

• P.M: It’s been an emotional day. Broke down crying. I reckon it’s been made worse by the knowledge that I can’t take the edge off later. God, do the days always have so much time in them?

DAY TWO

• A.M: Last night I slept in fire and ice. Woke up in a pool of sweat. No dreams. Just ideas of dreams. If dreaming is puking then this was dry-heaving.

• P.M: All of my anxiety, hopelessness, resentment, and anger haven’t gone away, but they haven’t worsened either. These feelings are constant companions I haven’t checked in with for a while. Just as difficult people deserve attention, so do difficult emotions. I finally have time to catch up with them, and when I do I realise they’re not so bad after all. In fact, they’re the best incentives to do something meaningful. My emotions and I have made some kind of imperfect peace. For now anyways.

DAY THREE

• A.M: I find myself a lot calmer now. More able to articulate complex talking points without getting aggravated. I’d forgotten how placid I can be.

• P.M: It’s easier to hold yourself to account when you’re sober. I spout off all this philosophical stuff about how to live your life and whatnot, but I don’t think I actually live up to the same standard. I seem to have all the right ideas, without the conviction to follow through on them.

• P.M: Things are becoming clearer now. The contrast is sharper. Feels like the corners of reality are unfolding again – I’m no longer boxed in. Pretty bummed out though. That’s okay I guess.

DAY FOUR

• A.M: Today will be a challenging one. It’s my first day off work since going sober. So much time to kill. So many temptations to resist. My best friend is coming over later. Like me he’s a heavy user, but he’s agreed to go clean with me. This brings me some solace.

• P.M: We spent the afternoon working on a script we wrote together five years ago. I had almost forgotten the feeling of getting lost in the writing process, the natural high you get. It’s better than any drug out there.

• P.M: The writing’s cut short when I’m suddenly overcome by fatigue. Feeling depressed again. This is to be expected.

DAY FIVE

• A.M: Had a lovely, natural night’s sleep. Even some dreams. Today will be my biggest challenge yet: I have the day off again, but my best friend doesn’t. Going solo.

• P.M: My mood has lifted significantly. I’m actually smiling more often than frowning. This feels good. Smoking less cigarettes too. Actually replying when my mum texts me. I think I’ll ask for my wallet back tomorrow.

Now, this article isn’t about how to stop smoking weed. There are plenty of resources online for that. This is about why you should consider stopping, or reducing your intake at least. But if I had to leave you with just one piece of advice, it would be this: get yourself some great friends. It’s by no coincidence that I prefaced this article with a quote from Jordan B. Peterson. The book from which the quote is taken encourages you to “make friends with people who want the best for you”. This is perhaps the best advice for anyone who wants to stop smoking weed, as you’ll need a support system in place to get you through it. My friends are amazing people, and they always want the best for me. That’s how I know I’ll be okay, no matter what the future holds.

I’m not telling you to quit smoking forever. But if you’re not enjoying it like you used to, or it feels like more of a habit than a passion, it may be time for a breather. So don’t Bogart that joint. Respect it. Because cannabis can be wonderful when used in the right way, as I’m sure you’ll remember.

To enquire about republishing my content, please email me at crstrang.info@gmail.com.