Tag: weed

Stress

November 15, 2025

I’m losing my mind.

I am so stressed out over everything that anytime I don’t get enough sleep, I turn into a weeping mess. Everything sets me off. Especially commercials. They are meant to elicit an emotional response and damn do they work on me lately.

Let’s go through some of the shit I have been dealing with, in no particular order:

  • The government is actively trying to harm all of us. There is no easy way around it, it’s terrible.
  • My mom is still sick and I’ve been feeling extra guilty about not spending more time with her.
  • I’m on the brink of financial ruin. I have no savings and I’m still trying to buy Christmas gifts. I have so much debt and it’s becoming crippling again.
  • My job isn’t guaranteed especially with bullet point number one. We depend on pharmaceutical companies and if they lose money, we lose money. I don’t have a backup.
  • I might have to move in a few months. If my roommate can’t get a job (she’s been trying for YEARS) We will have to downsize. I love my apartment. It’s just too expensive for one income.
  • (Update: How could I forget?!) I’m also desperately touch starved. I have no one in my life I allow to give me affection. I’m never hugged and no one, except my cat, gets near me.

All I want to do is sit around and catch up on my TBR list. I have so many books I want to read but no attention span anymore. So, I just smoke weed and cry over Great British Bake Off.

Sunday Clouds

October 4, 2020

Happy Sunday, dear reader. Welcome back. I inadvertently took some time off for self care. I hadn’t planned it but it was much needed.


Today, I am sitting here with my coffee and a sativa weed pen watching the Robert Downey Jr. Sherlock Holmes. It got me thinking about how we are obsessed with the tortured genius figure. Most of the time it’s a man, like Sherlock Holmes, Dr. House, and others based off that theme. I wonder why these figures are revered in media but in person, they would be rejected. I’m sure someone has written a thesis on Sherlock Holmes and all the adaptations. I’d be interested to find it. If I do, I’ll share it here.


I’m finally done with TMS. The tech was so kind that she made a “Last Day of Treatment” sign. What I’ve learned through this whole treatment process is that depression is going to happen, regardless of whatever treatment I’m on. I got really depressed at one point, I even tested out a way to kill myself at one point. I’m not going to get into how but just know that I am better now. So, even though depression will never go away for me, I know that I am strong enough to get through it. I’m so glad to have gone through TMS because it showed my 32 year old ass that I CAN be happy. I am capable.

Hopefully I get back into a rhythm of writing again. l’ve missed talking into the void and not knowing if it will talk back. Take care.

Day In the Life

September 4, 2020

Let me take you through a typical Sunday for me. First, I wake up around 7 or 8am, still incredibly stoned from the night before. All I was able to accomplish was food. So, I ate something especially sugary. Then, the next part depends on how stoned or hungover I was feeling that day. This past Sunday, I was able to take a walk around my neighborhood at 7am. It was pleasant and the weather was great. That’s all I really remember from that walk. And something about toilet snakes. I don’t believe I encountered a toilet snake on my walk, but I am convinced that the podcast [The Rad Dudecast] I was listening to was discussing them. I got back home and had the energy to put my laundry away and pick up my bedroom a bit. I was proud of myself and my accomplishments. I somehow made it to lay down on my bed and passed out for four hours. When I rose from the dead, I wasn’t sure who I was or what day it was anymore.


A different Sunday went a little more like this. I woke up, still stoned again. If I had taken any type of edible the night before, I am terrible with dosing so that I wouldn’t be incredibly messed up the next day. I still woke up around 8am though, and stumbled to the bathroom like a newborn giraffe who had just fallen out of the birth canal of the mother and couldn’t figure out gravity. Since I didn’t fall back asleep on the toilet, I finished up and made it to my living room where my roommate was sitting there, grossly awake. My head was so hazy that I think I held a partial, incoherent conversation with her stupid, awake ass (love you, appreciate all you do for me.) Realizing that I am not well, I picked my dizzy, vertigo having ass back up and made it to my bed, and slept until 3pm. This time though, I woke up refreshed and stable on my feet. Except, my day was gone.

This seems to happen every Sunday, and some Saturdays. As I look back while writing this, I think maybe I have a problem. I know I’m not physically addicted to weed but I 100% use it as a crutch for my emotional well-being. I have some skills developed over many years of therapy that I should be using to help myself but it is difficult when the physical symptoms of depression and anxiety take over. I can’t help myself feel good when there is a boulder of stress on my back. This is why I try to walk frequently. The exercise and nature help my stress but sometimes it’s not enough…

Take care, reader. Until next time.