cannabis use disorder
I quit when I have to - when psychosis pulls me into institutions and jails, but the desire is always there.
There are lots of proud marijuana users on the littleweb. You can't unsee their sparkly 420 themed 88x31s. I relate to these users a whole lot, but also tread their pages with a bit of fear and trepidation.
I know why I use the herb.
For me, it breaks down those left-brained barriers to perceiving the ever present language of God in all outward expanding entropy. My right brain would light up at any sign of the pareidolia in otherwise mundane things coalescing into what I would perceive to be some holy celestial alignment.
The herb pushed me into a career in horticulture where the secret world of ecology was always amplified and made obvious by the ever-present influence of THC on my brain. I became entranced by the idea of the Krummivisur and so I would literally follow murders of crows around - taking the scene underneath them when they gathered as some sort of stageplay God needed me to see for the time.
I found myself left handed when I write so "being gay and doing crimes" was a mantra that made total sense. In self-deifying, I found myself taking plenty of psychosocial licks when my ego would erupt. These fissures would manifest as some pretty morbid scenes. I would cover myself in runes and makeup - walk into town in outlandish vestiture and gather attention to myself as I plagued society with unwanted social interaction.
In Maryland, the authorities would snatch me up and it would be just a trip to a psych ward. Now that I am in the much more right-winged Eastern Washington, the most recent episodes have chaulked up trespassing, harassment and simple assault charges. These are much harder dilemmas to deal with. The God of Abraham is really harshing my vibe. I've been diagnosed with schizophrenia, bi-polar disorder, generalized anxiety disorder - everything except autism - which, of all the DSM-V's diagnostics, is the thing that I personally see fit for myself. I'm not getting brownie points out here. I'm just a criminal I guess.
Every time I tangle with right-handed society ( the majority of society who adhering to Abrahamic moral codes ) I quit for a time and, with a sober mind, I have to reflect on the period of cannabis addiction and observe its effect on my life.
Verily I say unto you, my initial desire was to run from the law. I've done something wrong. My will was crushed. My sorcery went sour. I wanted to drive my ramshackle caravan into Lolo National Forest and disappear for the rest of eternity. In spite of my desire, I know that only terrible things will happen to me if I push against the system anymore - so I hush now and I observe the destruction I have wrought.
I always wonder how I will ever exist again, but somehow I always rise from the ashes - which is why a lengthy jail sentence looming overheard eerily doesn't seem to phase me now. I know it should, but it doesn't. In a way, I wonder if I have achieved Crowely's "Abyssal Star" status. I guess I was affected by all the rappers that came to record in my studio. All my goods are locked up in storage and the unit is made to autopay with plenty of money in the bank - enough to last for quite some time.
Now that I write this, I'm realizing the previous fear of going to jail has transformed into almost giddyness. I think I like being terrifying! In spite of my desire to come off as a good person, everyone who crossed me certainly deserved my rage. None of them got hurt, physically, but THEY had insecurities - not me - and they used those to play off like they were innocent little lambs who needed police to come save them from the Insane Gardener.
"He was always out there smoking that weed.", they included in their police reports. As if they ever cleaned their dishes or mopped the shower or did any yard work. All I did was tell your dad the truth about us my love. DON'T YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH?!?! The NEET nextdoor got reminded why they don't go outside. My ex got forced out of the closet.
Crazies like me. OH BOY!
I suffer from Cannabis Use Disorder and I'm pretty sure I'm autistic.
This was definitely not the direction I expected going in when I started writing, and I'm terrified that this made me feel better.
Am I a Demon? Certainly could be.
I'll always remember what step-mom said to bio-dad at the Pet Store at the mall when I was however young.
"Snakes like you because you are Satan." "Son," my father said to me laughing "this is true love."
He affectionately called us "The Adam's Family" and in writing this I've finally laughed after such a long time of feeling sorry for myself.