GIRLS ON WEED
CHOOSE WISELY…….
Photo credit: Jillian Evelyn
Girls smoke weed. They take drugs. Nobody will tell you that. Nobody acknowledges it. It hurts your lungs and take your life.
But what do you care?
You are ugly, socially disconnected, loneliness, break ups weigh heavily on you. Academics, medical school has a huge load on you. You do not belong and your fashion sense is stale. You joined the evening fellowship to feel wanted, you thought pastor Tunde found you attractive, but it’s lust so you ran.
You’ve heard about marijuana. How just one blow can disperse your feelings. How it can kill a troubled mood. But your father won’t agree, at least you heard him once or twice warning Tosin about how his friends’ son ran mad from smoking “igbo”. There you are considering it strongly. In fact you’ve made your decision. You called Funke to ask for her supplier. She was surprised you asked, but she gave you anyways, who doesn’t want a partner in crime.Girls don’t take drugs.
The first supply came and you were nervous. You were given free rollers for being a first timer…. Who says the devil doesn’t give free gifts…..Then another problem came, you don’t know how to smoke. But Funke is there, she’s been on it since first year in University. She rolled it out for you, encourage and tried to shook away your anxiety… Peer pressure
Photo credit : @Emmanueldudu
You held it between your thumb and your index finger, your hand shaking. You are afraid. Your problems came back, agitating your brain cells. The devil can sell anything….You took your first drag, the experience? Nothing, it wasn’t a strong one, though it was strong enough to induce a deep cough, which expelled any form of fear in you. You laughed throughout the day, the sky devoid of clouds.
It became a habit, even Funke had given up. Anatomy doesn’t interest you anymore.The last time you opened the textbook, you felt the pictures coming out to eat you, but you are on weed.You have a problem, you’ve refused to believe that. But the last time your supplier ran out of weed, you broke a few plates, and your mental state went into crisis. But it’s still your favorite toy, helps you unwind and relax.
But you are drowning, chronic anxiety is a routine, you fear everything, even your insecurities. Your messiah, weed, failed and your demons are catching up. You run away, as fast as you could, but you are on a treadmill, going nowhere, very fast.
It’s addiction
Photo credit :@_alaoo
You get high enough to lose focus, losing your health and your life. You are conscious of your actions but mentally paralyzed to help yourself. Your blood is dirty and your lungs is a dark tent. You look like death already gave you a date . You fooled yourself thinking weed would solve your problems, but those leaves gets destroyed too, their ashes dwelling on your lungs.
You need help
God has a lot of work to do. He needs to make a new list of your destiny. Create a new human. Weed gave you the good times but pushed you in a mud of destruction. Your father is disappointed but he loves you enough to seek help. Your supplier kept calling, he knew the dangers all along but his bills need to be paid.
You fought and won the battle of recovery, but within yourself you knew a part you is destroyed and many years has been wasted.
Please stay away from drugs… It ruin lives
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