Canna catch a break, dang
We all know I went through it this last year. If you’ve found your way to this blog it was probably through my social media, where I’ve been pouring my heart out since my marriage ended.
I used to smoke a lot of weed. I was a dab girl at conventions, selling vapes and explaining dabs to people of all ages and backgrounds…and loving it. Dabbing was awesome! It took away my inhibitions, let me be fun and happy, and gave me some creative umph.
Until it didn’t. I got dabbed out, and the anxiety would come in panic-inducing waves at the gym (yes, I’d dab before exercising) that couldn’t be curtailed. My trusty Super Lemon Haze, a strain high in the terpene pinene which helps asthma with its bronchodilator effects, had failed me. I choke-sobbed on the stair master and that was the end of dabs for me.
Then I switched back to flower, just to chill a bit. Joints and blunts were a staple in my household due to the preferences of our associations, and I found myself back to my Florida roots with a thick tobacco smell inundating my apartment day after day. Edibles had made me see ghosts in the past (before there were regulations on how much weed you could put in a fucking rice Krispy treat that you gave away as a sample at a cannabis event Jesus fucking christ) and I was scared of them. Tinctures made me sleepy. Topicals helped with local relief only. So, I quit.
My husband and I started to drift apart after that. I know that cannabis was a big part of our relationship (I was arrested for possession and paraphernalia in Florida on our first date!) and I had removed that bond. I became more uptight and less tolerant, while he leaned towards more alcohol and party drugs when he was out with his friends. I microdose psychedelics; he dives in deep. It was a recipe for disaster.
After he left, my life was in turmoil. When you find out someone ws cheating, for a really long time, it really shakes your whole foundation. My entire belief system was rooted out and thrown out the window in one fell swoop. As he left and I packed the apartment and started trying to date, I picked up weed again with my friends.
Then came the panic attacks.
I had never had a full-blown panic attack in my life before, despite physical abuse as a child or any other trauma I endured. Never. Didn’t think they were real. Until I started hyperventilating, walking the rooms of my apartment touching walls (I found out later I was grounding myself), crying like I was experiencing death. And I was. A death of myself, my heart, my life, my routine, my love, my whole existence. I would wake up face-down on the floor, mascara all over my face, and my dog laying on or near me. This happened three times before I got help.
I didn’t want to be on pharmaceuticals; they felt like a failure on my part to acclimate to regular society and move into being a real person. It felt like a regression to admit I needed them. But I did. Desperately. One Telehealth call with a shrink (I could not leave my bed) and she put me on some heavy shit. Trial and error found me on Prozac instead, with Kolonopin for emergencies.
The next few months were filled with triggers. I’d be at work (in cannabis) and someone would say something that reminded me I was single, or that I wasn’t with him anymore, and my Apple Watch would track my heart rate from 55 to 127 in about 30 seconds. Sometimes I could be found on my knees in the vault room, other times just hands against the wall crying. It was really embarrassing and really hard to get through. I had to learn a whole bunch of coping skills to ground myself and prevent the panic from coming. Weed made it 1000x worse.
I discovered Wyld CBD gummies a few months ago and that really changed the game for me. They’re 20:1 so it gives me some relaxation without the anxiety. CBD is literally an anxietol. I also use Proof 1:1 tincture, just a wee bit, to help me be silly. I need to be silly, man. I’m so dead serious and in pain all the time that it really helps me.
I had hip surgery recently on an old ballet injury and stopped the pain pills as soon as I could, shifting to higher dose THC edibles. Truly a godsend.
I’m off Prozac. Just gummies and tinctures until I feel comfortable smoking again (COVID really affected my lungs, as well). I can’t recommend cannabis enough, dosed out for your body, to get you through real emotional and physical pain.
If you want some in-depth knowledge about how cannabis can help you, hit me up in the Contact section. I want the whole world to feel better.
This is me at work, just after a panic attack where an employee had to hug me to calm me and then I had to go clean up my sobby face in the bathroom. Woof.