Addicted To Marijuana
By: Omid Hope
Tags: Addiction, Love Yourself, Compassion, Marijuana, Addiction Recovery

I blindly listened to the advice and direction of my parents. I never learned to question them, anyone else or, anything else in life really. I did what I believed I was supposed to do: shut up and follow orders.

So I did.

I went to the after school programs they signed me up for, I joined clubs for extra credit, and never stayed out past 8pm. I never had friends over and never spoke back.

I guess you could say my upbringing was more like a dictatorship than a democracy (despite my father’s left winged ideologies). I mean, after all, I had no real input on my life.

At an early age, I was told girl’s would ruin my life and give me diseases. That alcohol was never to be consumed and that all drugs were going to render me homeless and stunt my mental growth. Marijuana was among those.

The first drop of alcohol that hit my lips was Raspberry Smirnoff Ice. I had 4 of them at the cottage a bunch of us rented out after prom for the weekend. I was 26 before I got my first hit from a joint. I didn’t feel anything and was scared of “melting my brain” the entire time. I think I actually became paranoid BEFORE I had engaged in the communal joint passed around among friends. After that, several months went by before I tried it again. This time, after one of my DJ sets in Niagara Falls, Ontario. A coworker offered my then girlfriend and I to join him for a smokey night cap. I definitely felt it this time — I was really happy and my mouth was as dry as sandpaper. We ate like 4 take out meals from the 24hour diner shortly thereafter. (Poutine is awesome!)

Fast forward 2 months and I was in my condo apartment downtown Toronto with a couple close friends when we decided to spark up again. I wasn’t afraid of “getting too high” anymore and really quite enjoyed it this time. I felt light and unusually euphoric. A feeling I hadn’t experienced, maybe ever. The following week I asked around and was able to find a street dealer through one the managers I worked with in the nightlife world. I borrowed my friend’s car and went to meet “Josh Green” that warm August evening. He told me to put $50 in a paper coffee cup with the lid on and hold it outside the driver side window at exactly 12:15am. Then he was to walk by with an identical cup and swap with me — his obviously containing a 1/8th gram of the devil’s lettuce.

I drove home cautiously and carefully, not to raise any suspicions for I was now a criminal!

From that day forward, I smoked weed pretty much every night. I fucking loved it. I loved how free and detached I felt. A shared joint with my ex-girlfriend every night turned into hitting bowls during the day while on business calls, a bong hit or two before lunch and of course a fat joint before dinner.

I was addicted.

I spent close to $800 a month for 3.5 years buying weed. Some months even more because I would travel or need new pipes/lighters/papers. To date, I spent $12,680 on marijuana and marijuana related “equipment”.

I began to carry around with me a little suede satchel containing everything I needed to get high, on cue. Odour preventing containers, papers, hand rolling machine, grinder, lighters & heavy stock paper (if you know, you know). I was already a good liar (a story for another article), so it became easy to come up with excuses for why I had to keep going to the garage or why I needed fresh air during Christmas dinner. I needed more and more of those good feels. I couldn’t get enough; I started going to work high, social gatherings high and purposely took public transit/uber so I could smoke before the ride.

I became increasingly anxious and found myself getting angrier than usual when we would run out of weed. Towards the end of 2018 when my life crashed and burned, I smoked even more. Single, broke and severely overweight, I smoked almost 8 grams a day. Something like 5–6 joints in addition to several one-hit pipe tokes throughout the day.

I smoked, ordered in, watched Netflix, then porn…and repeated. I was miserable and my tolerance for weed had sky rocketed. When before a hit or two would suffice, now even a whole 1 gram joint to myself wasn’t enough to make me fly.

Fast forward to July 2019. I finally began to shake some of the self loathing thoughts from my break up that were taking up so much mental real estate, and I decided to get back in shape. I started with nightly walks. Of course, I packed lots to smoke on my route but at least I got outside and my dog benefited from this new workout regimen of mine, too! I went everyday that month and again in August and well, I am still doing it even today as I write this.

The only difference is now I don’t smoke before, during or after my walks. You see, 91 days ago I quit smoking weed and 63 days ago I quit marijuana use of any kind. Yes, I am really proud of myself.

For months leading up to finally strengthening my mind enough to quit marijuana altogether, I had often found myself wanting to quit while I was getting high. I would spark up and hate that I was still smoking weed, while smoking weed. On several occasions I flushed all my weed, whether in flower from or edible form, down the toilet; loudly declaring to myself that enough was enough and I was through with this addiction! Only to find myself googling the hours of operation for the dispensary nearest to me so I could wake up early and be there as the doors opened the following morning. On 2 particularly pragmatic occasions I found myself rummaging through garbage cans and compost bins where I had ditched my weed, desperately trying to find anything I could to get my hit and quiet my mind, once again.

My parents were strict and dictatorial when it came to doing things to look good on my college applications or avoiding substances but they also ruthlessly encouraged my brother and I to learn. My dad in particular, always had a book by his side. He always encouraged me to read and absorb new information and teachings as often as possible. So, it wasn’t all bad. Far from it.

This is important because luckily, despite my addiction or my lying or cheating…I always had a strong affinity to learn. This led me to Youtube, bookstores and podcasts where I relentlessly consumed new ideas and perspectives. I am a huge fan of Tom Bilyeu who hosts Impact Theory on Youtube. In one of his episodes he had Dr. Rangan Chatterjee on as a guest and in that conversation, Dr. Rangan mentions the name Gabor Mate and tells Tom “he is one of the most compassionate human beings I’ve ever met and an expert in addiction”. Obviously, I had to seek this man out.

Dr. Gabor Mate’s work is what saved me from further deteriorating under the addiction of marijuana. The first podcast I listened to had me hooked, no pun intended. He so beautifully broke down what an addiction was and why we become addicted in the first place.

“Addiction is manifested in any behavior that a person craves, finds temporary relief or pleasure in but suffers negative consequences as a result of, and yet has difficulty giving up. In brief: craving, relief, pleasure, suffering, impaired control. Note that this definition is not restricted to drugs but could encompass almost any human behavior, from sex to eating to shopping to gambling to extreme sports to TV to compulsive internet use: the list is endless. Such answers illuminate that the addiction is neither a choice nor a disease, but originates in a human being’s desperate attempt to solve a problem: the problem of emotional pain, of overwhelming stress, of lost connection, of loss of control, of a deep discomfort with the self. In short, it is a forlorn attempt to solve the problem of human pain. Hence my mantra: “The question is not why the addiction, but why the pain.”

Did you catch that? What he says in the last line?

“Ask not why the addiction, but why the pain?”

This one question was how I beat my addiction to marijuana. I had to find the pain I was desperately trying to numb.

See, I smoked weed to escape the anxiety of never believing I was good enough. I learned at an early age that I wasn’t going to be loved for who I was, but for what I could achieve. I hung my worth on results, awards, trophies. It turns out, I wasn’t happy with who I was. Nothing we haven’t heard before, right? I lacked a tremendous amount of self-awareness (& confidence) and when marijuana offered me an escape from the world that had become so normal to me, I took it. I wanted to escape so badly. I wanted to laugh freely, I wanted to give my mind that break from reality as I knew it.

This lesson literally cost me $12,680 but it’s value…truly priceless. I understood that I wasn’t happy because I wasn’t creating it for myself; after all, happiness is an inside job. For as long as I went seeking euphoria, peace and freedom from things outside of ME, I was always going to be on the hunt for the next “hit” and I’d never find true happiness.

You’re addicted to what you seek. You seek the addictions that give you the qualities you didn’t have in childhood. For me it was euphoria, joyfulness, autonomy, happiness, laughter and freedom. My addiction to marijuana was an attempt to regulate my inner state through an external behaviour. There was something unbearable about my inner state and I tried to find solace externally.

What an addict wants is not to be addicted per se, because when you’re not craving it, you’re not addicted temporarily. So the addict is actually after that temporary state of NOT being addicted…when that craving is gone and there’s finally some momentary inner peace. At that moment, you feel complete. You feel like you don’t need this ever again (like when I would flush my weed down the toilet). Until 3 hours later when you’re not high anymore and you realize what you thought was “feeling complete” was only an external regulation.

Let’s use sex addicts as an example. They’re looking for that temporary state change; to feel desired. To feel wanted. They’re not seeking sex, per se. If they were seeking sex the solution would be simple: marry another sex addict and get all the sex you want. No matter how much sex they have, they never feel complete…because they can’t do this (create a happy state) for themselves (& no, masturbation isn’t the solution either).

The more we’ve suffered in life, the bigger our desires to escape from the sufferings. We will go to more extreme lengths to try and satisfy the emptiness within ourselves.

My friends, as we now know…it doesn’t work. Happiness IS an inside job. I lost a lot of friends, money and health trying to chase happiness via marijuana. I found the peace I needed to fill that void when I found compassion for myself. I forgave myself and understood I was doing the best I could with what I knew at the time. I forgave my parents for doing the best they could do at the time with the information they had; trying to protect me from the dangers of a society we had only recently emigrated to. With forgiveness came compassion for self. With this, I was able to change my life. As mentioned earlier, I am now 63 days marijuana free because I began to cultivate joy for myself by myself. I didn’t know what liberation was until I felt this. THIS is freedom.

My name is Omid and my name directly translates to the word Hope. I found myself in order to heal, and I hope you do too.