I’M TRYING TO QUIT WEED (AGAIN)

The first time I took a substantial break from my daily weed use was in the summer of 2022 and I wasn’t happy about it. I’d recently been diagnosed with SIBO and had gone to see a specialist for additional advice. But the moment I revealed to him that I took a gummy or smoked from a dry herb vape each night to help with my anxiety, it was as if nothing else I said mattered. He became convinced that my acid reflux and stomach issues were a direct result of my long-term cannabis use even though I was pretty freaking sure they were not. (Both issues had started in my early twenties before I discovered how much daily weed helped calm me down and my symptoms didn’t match the syndrome he was, in my opinion, fanatically obsessed with.) I felt unheard and dismissed by his insistence that this thing that helped me so much was what was making me sick, but I also knew I owed it to myself and my husband (then boyfriend) to see if he was onto something. So I quit weed for about five weeks and I hated every minute of it.

Part of what made this time period difficult was that the decision to kick my habit wasn’t self-motivated. It was to test out a pet theory by a doctor I didn’t like (at all). I tried to self-manipulate my way into it by appealing to my vanity–if I didn’t partake I probably wouldn’t eat as much at night and maybe I’d lose weight. (I’m mortified to admit that the desire for thinness remains alluring despite all my best efforts to shed myself of this societal trap.) But after a weigh-in at a different doctor showed no change and my belief that my stomach issues weren’t tied to my daily use felt proven, I returned to the habit that brought me so much comfort and little repercussions outside of some nighttime snacking.

My relationship to weed since that forced break, however, has been a conflicted one. My usage wasn't out of control. I never had any during the day and I remained (extremely) productive. I didn’t have to increase my intake by any significant amount over time. And I often felt that my ability to fully relax at night was what allowed me to keep going at such an intense speed during the day. And yet…

I found myself planning my days around when I could take a gummy. While I knew I wasn’t physically addicted to it, as proven by week long vacations without it, I was certainly psychologically dependent. It had become a coping tool and for a long time that was…perfectly fine. I don’t think that any of us have to grin and bear our way through life just because it is the more “virtuous” approach. Weed helped me through my broken engagement and the death of my mother. I feel thankful that my body has such a soothing reaction to it. But it no longer felt like I was choosing to engage with it. It felt like it had chosen me and I didn’t like that shift in dynamic.

Other factors also led to my change of heart. While I still don’t think I ever had Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome, like that annoying doctor insisted, there has been more research coming out lately about the long-term effects of weed. I didn’t want to be one of those people whose opinion about something ignores new information. When I started using weed more frequently I truly believed there wouldn’t be significant health impacts. I then realized (embarrassingly belatedly) that smoking anything isn’t good for you, which is why I switched to the dry herb vape and gummies. But I still wasn’t convinced that weed itself was dangerous if it wasn’t having a negative impact on your daily life. I desperately wanted to hold on to these (self-serving) beliefs even as more and more upsetting information hit the mainstream media. While many people refuse to change their opinions despite contradictory information because doing so would force them to reexamine their life choices, I didn’t want to fall into that trap. Especially when I judge other people so much for doing just that! (Looking at you, Republicans.)

So all this upsetting research, combined with my desire to get pregnant and weed’s negative impact on conception, meant I finally felt motivated to stop. I wasn’t sure that I would be able to–in fact I’m still not sure–but I was ready and willing to try. Two things that weren’t true last time.

I’m happy to report that it’s officially been four weeks since I’ve had any cannabis. Part of what made this cold turkey approach possible was an unexpected two and a half week stay in NY. While I had decided to stop a few days before I left, not being at home made it easier for me to actually break the habit. By the time I returned I’d learned that I can tolerate evenings without it and, even more importantly, I had evidence that I can sleep well without needing to take something. All of this helped me fight off any inclination to relapse upon returning home (at least so far).

Deciding to give up weed, on my own timeline for my own reasons, has been incredibly empowering. I’ve always been a big proponent of working on yourself when you have the capacity. Over time, my dependence on weed had become a weight on my shoulders. It was this one area of my life where I felt powerless and incongruent with my values. (Aside from only being vegetarian instead of vegan, but that is a mission for another day.) I didn’t change my behavior the moment I wanted to, but I did change it once I felt like I had the ability to. And that feels like an important distinction. For whatever reason, my circumstances and desire finally aligned and all I had to do was take advantage of it.

We often say that we can’t force other people to change until they are ready but I also believe that we can’t force ourselves to change until we are ready. What this experience has shown me is that as long as I am gentle with myself and pay attention to when those moments of willingness do appear, I don’t have to beat myself up for not being “strong” enough to do something the moment I want to do it. Instead, I have to have faith in my future self and plant the seeds for the progress I eventually want to make–even if they take some time to grow.

I’ll admit that I was afraid to write this in case I return to my weed habit, but that fear goes against my desire for leading with self-compassion. I have no idea what my relationship toward weed will be in the future. All I know is that right now I don’t want to use it and I’m proud of myself for keeping that up. If that changes or if I slip up, so be it. I’ll just wait for another opportunity to get closer to who I want to be.

xoxo,

Allison

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