newly sober: dancing with myself
a conversation between my sober self and my stoned self... an experiment of sorts
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UPDATE: BONE MARROW TRANSPLANT
a week has passed since my blood was drawn and i found out that i am a 100% genetic match. 32F acute leukemia is not ready for the transfer, but i should be donating in the next 7-12 weeks. i can’t help but think that i was meant to be sober, if only for her. because who knows if i would have been able to donate with how much THC there was in my system? it takes 6 months for it to fully leave your system— i don’t like to think about the alternative timeline.
i am so thankful i am sober and i am able to give.
if you, too would like to become a Bone Marrow Donor, get your cheek swabbed. you just might be a match.
i don’t know why i’m sober.
i didn’t choose this— i mean, i do choose it every day. but when i first got hit with a wave of clarity, it was a breaking point.
i was staring at two paths:
death or fear of the unknown.
and maybe it wasn’t a physical death. but it definitely was a dimming of my inner light; dedication to relationships that drained me; profound denial.
the choice felt obvious.
but who knows: it could have gone differently. it still can.
i choose to be sober every day, 24 hours at a time.
10+ months ago was the first time i witnessed someone experiencing weed induced psychosis, but it would not be the last. i gaslit myself for months— maybe i’m just sensitive, maybe it was just me— until i found ONE book that catalogued my experience.
that one book was blackballed by the press, barely making a sound. (goes to show you how powerful weed lobby/ pro-cannabis organizations are [read: no room for dissent, no room for nuance— mind you, a side effect of smoking weed])
but i’m here to say: weed induced psychosis is real.
each time i’ve witnessed it, the person screams, ‘YOU’RE NOT LISTENING’ as i sit, actively trying to listen, unable to follow what is happening.
it looks like disorganized thinking; heightened emotions— most often rage; inability to communicate; my own confusion.
however, prior to December 22, 2021, i, myself was intolerant of any suggestion that weed was dangerous, harmful, or wrong. i was experiencing full-blown weed addiction, but any sort of conversation that actually questioned my weed use in any regard was completely intolerable.
but now, i understand, that intolerance is a symptom of smoking weed itself.
i’ve always wondered what it would be like to be in conversation with myself, stoned.
so, here’s present-sober-me talking to my-past-self:
Soberlina talks to Stonedlina
7,604 Hours Sober: you must think it’s pretty fuckin’ lame that i’m sober
stoned: i mean, i always assumed it would happen eventually— like, in my sixties or something.
7,604: happened much sooner. before thirty.
stoned: really? what happened?
7,604: you’ll see.
stoned: Wtf why do you sound so ominous.
7,604: because it was fucking terrifying. it was awful and the most traumatic three days of your life so far.
stoned: idk going to the nutritionist every week was pretty bad…
7,604: i promise you, this was worse.
stoned: getting weighed every week and being told what to eat? fucked up.
7,604: worse.
stoned: having ice skating coaches tell you when you gained weight and where?
7,604: this was worse.
stoned: um.. okay…
7,604: sorry. once i get going, it’s hard to get back on course. THE BODY KEEPS THE SCORE OR WHATEVER lol anyways i want to talk to you but i’m worried you won’t receive it.
stoned: what the fuck is that supposed to mean.
7,604: i just want to speak in a way that you can hear me.
stoned: um…
7,604: Weed induced psychosis is real.
stoned: talk about an opening line. jesus christ. um, who told you that? dad?
7,604: He didn’t have to. You experience people go into it. Over and over and over again. You almost did— well, maybe you actually did. remember when you had that hypomanic episode summer of 2018?
stoned: That was because I’m Bipolar
7,604: You’re not bipolar. Addicts get misdiagnosed as bipolar all the time. You’re a drug addict. The weed made you manic.
stoned: No it didn’t. Filming the Millenial Talk Show Pilot was traumatic and I was on too high a dosage of Lexapro.
7,604: yeah, that didn’t help. chicken or the egg, yk? but you are also choosing not to remember the weekend before, the moments before you got manic: you were in the Hampton’s with those people you didn’t know, trying to process the break up with a dude you had gone on two dates with but thought you were in love with. and he fucked you and broke up with you the next day. and as you were trying to process that break up AND a millennial talk show pilot (bc wtf even is that), you were sucking HARD on that vape pen every waking second, and you couldn’t stop talking and you could kind of sense that you were being A LOT but you couldn’t stop talking faster and faster because it was all pouring out of you.
7,604:you also discovered that you could paint— fun!— but also you low-key thought you were God.
stoned: I don’t see how weed had anything to do with that. plus, i didn’t think i was god— that 24 year old drunk guy on the train said it, not me.
7,604: yeah, but you didn’t deny it.
stoned: i mean, i did feel like god?— i did guess how old he was. but also, aren’t we all kind of god?
7,604: yes, but also… you weren’t thinking about other people. you def thought you and you alone were god— that’s psychosis, my guy. even Ram Dass said it in Be Here Now— if you can’t see the divinity in others and only see it in yourself, that is not true divinity. that’s insanity/illness.
stoned: i didn’t not see it, but i also did see it? idk i felt like gold glitter was falling off of me. my neighbor asked me out on the elevator— i was radiant, but i also couldn’t finish a task.
7,604: …
stoned: okay but when i got so fucking depressed after, weed was the only thing that helped— it was the only thing to live for, honestly.
7,604: You can’t see— you won’t see it because you’re still smoking. it wasn’t helping. it did feel like the only reprieve from the depression, but also you were pouring gasoline onto the fire that was your depression. you got on new meds but also there was no real way to see if the meds were working properly because you were introducing a depressant into your system non-stop. you were severely overmedicated. you can’t see it because you’re still smoking and still on all of those meds.
stoned: sober people are so fucking judgey wtf
7,604: I’m sorry— you’re right. i’m doing a shitty job. I’m on edge.
stoned: why? i’m open-minded.
7,604: Are you?
stoned: Is this how you talk to everybody?
7,604: No. though, maybe people can sense this judgement in me.
stoned: it’s clear.
7,604: i’m sorry, the judgement is really a byproduct of my fear. i am so freaked out. I wish I just had been told, but i also know that if i had been told i wouldn’t have listened to it. but FUCK IT I wish that I had known that all of the chronic pain in my back was because the THC was blowing out my pain receptors, they were hyper-activated and over-stimulated. it wasn’t my ice skating career— you actually start ice skating again in sobriety. i wish i had seen how much of a creative block weed was— it once expanded thought, but quickly became a block. i thought i needed to smoke to write, but i couldn’t think of anything else until i smoked; and once i smoked, i couldn’t write. you don’t have to outsource your creativity, ever. it lives in you, now. i wish that i had known that people who smoke more than twice a week are chronic smokers— you’re more than a chronic smoker. you’re an addict. i wish i had been awake to the gravity of my situation when a doctor, who had just performed an endoscopy on me spring of 2021, looked at me and said, “Your esophagus is a mess.” so that i could have taken care of myself. instead, i still drank and smoked for one more year. that it’s not normal to vomit after taking a bong rip every day— that maybe you were a little too comfortable with vomiting and in denial there was a problem because vomiting felt familiar. that vomiting can be caused by chronic weed use: weed hyperemesis is a fancy name for vomiting because you smoke so much weed. I just wish i knew how much better my life would be sober. i couldn’t believe that weed was the problem; i couldn’t dream up better.
stoned: it’s not. it’s insane— do you live at home? are you talking to dad?
7,604: he has no idea how bad it is for you right now. you hide things so well. you’re hiding from yourself. he has no idea that you’re smoking everyday, pretty much non-stop, and once he does know, he turns out to be an ally; a resource. but most of this shit you figure out for yourself first, and then he later confirms that yes: it’s all true.
stoned: so you’re talking to dad.
7,604: of course. you say that like it’s a bad thing.
stoned: just feels like you’re being influenced by him.
7,604: honestly, dude. i saw mom and dad way more when i lived in new york. this is all shit that i’m discovering myself.
stoned: at least i’m not drinking. i don’t wake up hungover.
7,604: you are drinking. you just don’t acknowledge it because smoking is more obvious. and you do wake up hungover— cloudy, never clearheaded. it’ll take you four months to sober to even acknowledge Barflina.
stoned: can you get off my fucking dick?
7,604: i’m sorry. i’m coming at you really hard.
stoned: you haven’t even given me a chance to talk.
7,604: you’re fucking right. i’m sorry. i just know who you are. i know what you’re thinking. and i just want to change your mind.
stoned: yeah, well you’re doing a really fucking bad job at it.
7,604: i’m sorry.
..
..
..
7,604: i’m sorry.
stoned: okay.
..
7,604: where are you at with it all?
stoned: with what?
7,604: how do you feel when you wake up?
stoned: fine? i don’t know. i mean, i’ll reevaluate everything when the lease is up. things are fine, i guess.
7,604: what do you feel you need to reevaluate?
stoned: i just feel a lot of responsibility
7,604: i understand.
stoned: it’s nice to be able to just… eliminate time. to forget i have a body. to just zone out.
7,604: yeah, we do love to dissociate.
stoned: that’s not what i’m doing.
7,604: uh, yeah. it kind of is.
stoned: i don’t have a reason to dissociate.
7,604: uh, yeah. you kind of do.
stoned: so much for listening to me.
7,604: you’re right. i’m judging. i just know that you’re engaged to marry someone who monologues at you every day about anti-natalism and how you should change your mind because he CAN’T make having children ethical, even though the night before you got engaged he said he was open to having kids, and now you walk his dog, feed both of your animals, do the laundry, cook and clean, and pay for him and his friends a lot because he makes it very clear that you come from a more fortunate economic status. but he tells you that working his job and paying half the rent is his sole contribution, and that it’s too much to give, while you carry everything he can’t do for himself.
stoned: i’m just making things work. i don’t want to blow up my life— i like my life.
7,604: you don’t like your life, it’s just comfortable because it’s familiar. even so, your life is about to blow up. remember what Jen said: “You don’t have to wait until things blow up to do something.”
stoned: i remember. i think about it all the time but i just have to wait until the book comes out.
7,604: the weed is keeping you stuck. you can’t take action because you’re smoking weed. you can’t take action until you stop. the weed is keeping you numb and it is keeping you from seeing things clearly.
stoned: jesus christ i thought you were going to listen to me
7,604: you’re not saying anything. you’re settling for things that are so beyond your worth.
stoned: at least i’m not drinking or doing meth.
7,604: honestly, i kind of wish meth was your problem because then people would take it more seriously.
stoned: … that’s so fucked up.
7,604: i don’t really mean it. i’m just, i just am tired of people looking me point blank and telling me that weed is medicine and that weed isn’t addictive.
stoned: it’s not.
7,604: when was the last time you stopped?
…
7,604: you can’t stop.
stoned: i can stop.
7,604: when was the last time you stopped.
stoned: i mean—
7,604: exactly.
stoned: getting sober turned you back into a judgmental fuck.
7,604: i just want you to hear me so badly. but you can’t.
stoned: you’re not listening to ME
7,604: you’re right, i’m not. but i also know that i am talking at an impenetrable wall.
stoned: the feeling is mutual. are you like this with everybody?
7,604: i hope not. i don’t think i am. i might be. just feels like i can say what i mean to you because you are me, and i know how fucking deaf you are when you are smoking.
stoned: that’s fucking rude. don’t be ableist.
7,604: i almost want you to get mad at me so that the things i am saying get stuck in your head. the things we can’t shake have meaning— i hope i get stuck in your head.
stoned: you… need help.
7,604: i do. i really do. but honestly, so do you.
stoned: i’m fine. i’m in therapy.
7,604: you mean the senior citizen from staten island you got through your over-priced, shitty free-market insurance? the one you waited six months for on a waitlist, only for her to dump you over text when she found out that you moved— AFTER she had scheduled an appointment with you, not shown up, and then sent a text with typos in it breaking up with you when you asked where she was? she literally ghosted you, my dude. you’re just desperate to talk to someone outside of your apartment— she just listens while you talk AT her for $80 an hour. does she know how much weed you smoke? fuck, i think when i told her i was addicted she said, “I tried weed once— it wasn’t for me.” and then she told me how much she enjoys a cold glass of chardonnay.
7,604: this is why i wish meth was your problem.
stoned: i thought getting sober was supposed to make you a better person. you sound like you’ve gotten judgmental as fuck. you’re worse than you were in high school.
7,604: honestly, i try practicing being nonjudgmental— to myself, to others— i know that telling people what to do will backfire.
7,604: in high school, i was afraid because i was being told “When you start using, your brain stops developing" and “If you get arrested, we’re not bailing you out,” but after going hard for 11 years, i’m even more afraid. i didn’t listen and i learned more reasons to be afraid. plus, i have the benefit of knowing that you do get sober— you’re me and i’m forever harshest with myself. so, i’m sorry. you’re getting the worst of it— i hope, at least. but i suppose that this judgement does live in me, this desperation to be heard because i have seen people get psychotic when they smoke weed every day, countless times in the last year alone. the people closest to me. and i’m fucking terrified. i feel like i’m screaming into a soundless vortex where no one can hear my words, and everyone is just chanting WEED IS MEDICINE, WEED IS MAGIC as all of our brothers and friends and boyfriends get psychotic and scream YOU AREN’T LISTENING TO ME, YOU AREN’T LISTENING when i have been listening for hours and i can’t quite figure out what they’re trying to say and why they don’t feel heard because fuck I DON’T FEEL HEARD. i only know all of this because i am fucking living it, and i don’t hear anyone else talking about it. and i am tired, i am so fucking tired. and i am so fucking scared. how many people are on the street because of weed induced psychosis? how many of them started with weed, got psychotic, and moved on to a better high? i’m fucking terrified and i don’t know why i got lucky enough to stop. i have no idea why i’m sober. i was hallucinating wild animals running across the road just before i got sober— i was so fucking close to losing myself. and i refuse to ever lose her— i refuse to dim my lit ever again. and i just wish i could get through to you but i know that i can’t until you stop fucking smoking. that’s part of it. you can’t stop until you stop. you can’t see why you should stop until you do. you have to put the weed down to hear. and i’m not fucking listening to you because you’re not actually saying anything. nothing you’ve said has had substance— not that i’ve given you a chance. but even so, you’re defensive, in denial, and incapable of nuance because you’re fucking stoned and weed IS a mind altering substance even though people make it into candy and it’s fucking up your perception and ability to reason, even though you think you’re clear-headed because you’re so used to being stoned all the time but just because you’re stoned all the time, just because it’s comfortable DOES NOT mean it’s not destructive. just because you’re used to being stoned all of the time— that being stoned is your baseline, it does not mean that you’re nOT STONED.
so yeah, i’m not fucking listening because i know what you’re going to say and i’m tired of hearing it from everyone around me.
…
…
…
7,604: i’m sorry.
stoned: seriously? fuck off.
welp, that went ! yikes! maybe i’ll let my stoner self talk someday. feels like i should continue this conversation with her. but clearly, i’ve got feelings. i am at battle with myself, i guess?
as always, thanks for reading. i hope this made any sense at all. if you liked it, tell me. this has been a writing experiment i’ve been thinking about for a long time— feel free to tell me if it was or was not successful. i love you.
xoxo,
PAULINA
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