Terrorized by Weed Edibles! (and other thoughts)

A strange thing happens as young people begin to get older.

When you’re young, you want to feel weird. You want to experience a heightened state all the time, you want new adventures. You want to blow the roof off in one way or another. If you’re like me, part of that youthful energy and thirst for adventure involved drugs.

I consumed LSD, ecstasy, mushrooms and I briefly flirted with cocaine. During those years, I was also a daily user of marijuana. I was a total stoner.

I wanted to feel as “weird” as possible in those days. These days? Not so much.


I smoked marijuana for a while last year, but the flirtation was short lived. I became ill with bronchitis and decided that inhaling smoke is not something I want to continue doing. I was also concerned about not wanting to become a stoner again.

The problem, of course, is that I’m a drunk.

It won’t ever stop unless I substitute booze with something else. I’m a weekend drunk for the most part, however, it’s not as though I haven’t consumed booze on a weeknight.

If I don’t stop drinking, I’m probably going to die in my 50’s. If not before.

Jack Kerouac is one of my favorite writers, and the drink killed him. I realize we’re all going to die anyway, but dying as a direct or indirect result of addiction is a failure. It’s a failed life.


Drinking heavily does not inhibit creativity if you’re already in a creative mood. It can, unfortunately, help things flow along. Hence the drunk writer trope. It’s a thing.

Last night I came on here and wrote about the song “Steel Rain”. It’s a little sloppy and needs editing (which I’m too lazy and hungover to do right now), but for the most part it’s… kind of awesome. Even in rough draft form it stands up with some of the better writing I’ve done on this blog.

I read it with amusement this morning and sneered — at least I can write well creatively even when I’m shit-faced.

Even so, I can’t help but wonder what I could do in my life with that level of precision — the ability to cut through a haze of strong chemical and still write — if alcohol wasn’t an issue. I just think that when I slay this beast, my life will be much better.

I was on antidepressants for about 6 months and I didn’t drink once that whole time. The cravings were basically non-existent. I don’t want to go back on anti-depressants, so that only leaves one option:



Before I went on the pills, I purchased weed mints and weed chocolates. The edibles are still sitting untouched in my closet. The damned things are probably expired by now.

I am terrified of marijuana edibles.

In the past, I have baked weed brownies that gave me an anxiety attack even when I prudently ate a small piece approximately the size of four Hershey’s chocolate chips rolled into a ball. That’s a pretty small dose.

Edibles are incredibly powerful. I don’t want anxiety and I don’t want to feel weird.

The mints are only 5 mg’s. That’s half of a dose, and I am sure it will be perfectly fine. I am just being a big pansy.

I need to get over it and take that first step.


There’s also my concern about becoming a stoner, which is a hypocritical concern considering I’m a drunk.

I quit when I was in my 20’s because I didn’t want to be a “40-year-old stoner”. I said that to people at the time. It was my idea of failure. I was adamant that I wanted the opportunity to possibly achieve something in life.

Well, I’ll be 40 in a couple of years and I haven’t achieved jack squat in my life. Nothing significant anyway.

Thus, it might be time to lose the judgmental attitude instilled by my upper middle-class upbringing.

Seriously — who are you to judge a 40-year-old stoner? You don’t know their life.

Someone also brought up a good point recently. They said it’s important to understand that there’s a huge difference between using weed to manage a medical condition in a judicious manner, versus using marijuana every single hour/day of the week as “stoners” do.

The kid playing video games in his basement versus the adult professional with depression who limits it to weekend or as-needed use because they have priorities and responsibilities.

I think my fear of going back to my 22-year-old fuck-up self might be unfounded. Once you pass through a career door and mature, you’re probably not going to return to the mentality of the past. Something just changes in your head once you pass life’s milestones. For me that milestone was the stability of a career field.

I knew a high-level HR lady at a bank who totally smoked pot on the weekends and I loved her. She was a hard worker and I found her inspiring. She made a lot of money and was physically active, clearly weed wasn’t holding her back.

I think this is something I need to do.

I need to just try one of these legal edibles and see how it goes, then pop one of those suckers every time I think I need booze and am too stressed out / psycho to resist the need for something.

Because I gotta stop drinking. It’s holding me back, hangovers waste my time, and it’s gonna kill me.

The success of the antidepressant was a signpost on the wall.

It points to marijuana.