I woke up depressed today. 2 out of the 3 times I smoked pot this week, I woke up depressed and exhausted. At first I blamed it on the weather but no, it’s not the weather.
I don’t think I should smoke so often. Maybe limit it down to once a month – the last day of each month to decompress and gather myself. It messes with my serotonin or dopamine levels too much. I can see why people get hooked. The physiology of the brain becomes dependent – you don’t become dependent, but your body does.
Waking up depressed regresses me back into my box. I fall into zombie mode.
I’m okay now that it’s almost 1:30 pm, but waking up anytime before that is a struggle. I woke up at 8 am and my brain chemicals haven’t had time to adjust.
Pot is definitely a nice sacred herb, but from my experience, it causes depression. It’s my personal reaction to it, but everyone’s different.
I was high when I wrote that last post, but I still agree with it for the most part. Spiritual awakening is a real thing. After writing that post, I tried falling to sleep but got worried about waking up and having that stranger in my bed again. Not only that, but the top of my head started feeling weird like someone was touching it. And I became ghastly afraid of hearing my name being called out of nowhere.
My Mother hears my name being called all the time. Not only my mom, but my aunt hears it too – at the same time!
Mom – “Someone was calling for you today.”
Me – “Who?”
Mom – “It was a man’s voice calling you. Auntie heard it too. She was sitting right here next to me.”
Auntie knods her head and said – “We both heard it.”
Mom – “He said, ‘Melanie……Melanie……'”
Me – “Oh great….”
Mom – “It sounded like it was coming from downstairs.”
That happened a while ago, I can’t remember when. And it happened a few times before that.
And I’ve seen allusive movements in my peripherals. Movements that happen in wide open space hovering in nothingness, like a translucent flip of something.
I don’t like these things. I’m going out tonight drinking and emptying my mind of it all. I want to be normal for a while.
I’m waiting in work for my future sister-in-law to get her massage.
Sister-in-law is done.
I pretended like she was my real sister while giving her her massage. I have an intense imagination and can grasp almost any visualization as if it were truly happening. And so she was my real sister for 90 minutes.
It was a type of closeness I never felt or had with anyone. I cradled her head in my hand while I massaged her neck and it felt like tenderness. I didn’t grow up in tenderness. It was always gruff and masculine, and so I sunk into meekness hoping that my shyness would spur tenderness in others.
Whenever I find a tender moment of complete trust, love and understanding, it’s like finding that sister moment. It’s hard to describe, but I’m sure if I really did have a sister, all this appreciation would be taken for granted or nonexistent.