Quitting Weed

 A few days ago, I took a puff of legal weed in my apartment and almost had a panic attack. I've read about this affecting other people, and didn't think it would happen to me. The feeling of being outside your body, and rapid heart rate, isn't a fun experience.

I've stopped using Cannabis, and don't know if I'll ever go back. To be honest, I was using this plan to get by some grieving I was doing. But to be honest, I've worked my way into a habit and began to become a hermit.

My goal is to clear my mind, refocus, and move past the tough moments. If you have an anxiety disorder and use weed, you have a higher chance of getting a panic attack. 

Instead of living my life in a foggy haze, I've decided to reconnect with my faith and ask for help.

Saying you are going to quit and starting to quit is the easy part. When you get down or depressed, or lonely, it's keeping that commitment to not use is where it gets tricky. 

I thought back to when I visited my mom in August and stopped smoking for 2 weeks. My mind was getting clearer, and I was starting to dream again. I was getting back to my old self. This was something I wasn't used to for years. 

When you get comfortably in a mental fog, it's hard to leave it. It's like a security blanket. 

I've bundled up my stash into a zip lock bag, and placed it somewhere in the closet. I have no urge to use and don't think this will be too much of a hassle. But I know myself. Temptation. I must change my life for the better. I can do it.