I still remember the first time I smoked weed. I remember it vividly, feeling like a dream, sitting on the bench at the park and thinking to myself “did that just happen?” I fell in love that day.
I have been getting stoned since.
The last four years of my life, however, have taken a turn for the worse. I had to quit smoking weed, I had a baby on the way and I lived in a town in which any job that paid over minimum wage drug tested.
So I did what everyone else was doing at the time and began leaning my addiction over to this stuff called spice.
I had heard of spice throughout high school, but I was a stoner; I LOVED weed with a passion, hell I sold the stuff so It didn’t cost me a thing.
However, after graduating high school and a year of being a worthless stoner, I had a baby on the way.
I worked at Jack In The Box at the time, but wanted a better job to provide for my future family.
I had already smoked spice a couple of times, but it tasted like shit and didn’t get you as high as weed.
When my ex was pregnant, I made that fateful decision with the intentions to provide as much as I could for our future family.
Little did I know it would drive the nail in the coffin between our relationship.
Don’t get me wrong, she was proud of me for it, but by the end of our relationship I was so lost that I had chosen this artificially shitty tasting DRUG over my family.
Weed has been around for thousands of years, we have never heard of anyone dying from smoking too much weed but we have already heard countless numbers of poor individuals die from smoking this shit called spice.
Hearing it doesn’t show up on a drug test, you can buy it at the cig shop around the corner for pretty cheap and best part of all? It produced a high very similar to weed when first released. This shit was the devil in disguise.
Let me explain.
We’ve all heard of the growing trend of spice, how authorities ban the cannabinoids in the spice but the manufacturers just produce it using still legal cannabinoids.
I’d been getting high all day every day since I was 15. I always had spice on me just like a pot head always had weed. Everything I did I, did high, first thing in the morning and the last thing I did before bed. It was the routine to my life.
My son’s mom had met me a stoner, so of course she initially accepted spice so long as I stopped getting high when the baby arrived – but that didn’t happen, and the arguing began.
When my son was about 10 months old, I lost my job. I FUCKED UP. It was the biggest mistake I had made in my life; the sad part was I hadn’t even realized it at the time. I was in such a fog I didn’t care if I lost my job, I went into the HR’s office stoned, and she was dumbfounded by my lack of interest for my job.
I didn’t give a shit, all I was thinking was “Where do I sign so I can go smoke a fucking bowl?”.
I told my son’s mom that weekend, “you’re kidding right?” she asked.
“I wish”, I replied.
She took it better than I initially expected, but looking back now of course she was happy she was going to have her boyfriend back. I worked 60+ hours a week at that job and she was attending night school so we only saw each other when she came home from school which was at 9:30PM.
I would apply for unemployment and just start looking for another job… was my initial plan.
The initial two weeks were great, a vacation, I thought. However when my unemployment was denied, my anxiety started to mount.
As I waited for the appeal to go through, my bank account began to dwindle, the one thing that did not however was my spice stash.
I was smoking more than ever before, I had 60+ more hours of “freedom” I thought, so what did I do? I did what I always did. Started getting high.
My appeal was declined, I would not receive unemployment benefits.
FUCK it thought, I have to find a job now.
My father owns a landscape maintenance business, so I asked him for a job but he could only afford to give me part time work.
I got by, and eventually found another job working in the oil fields; however, my son’s mom had had it by this point. I had been smoking spice for about two years at the time, and she knew me better than anyone. She knew the spice was changing me, she knew it wasn’t like weed.
I was lazier, edgier if I didn’t have it. It stunk like shit, and I wasted at least 80 bucks a week on it. When I chose the spice over her, she left me – not right away, of course.
She threatened me for over a week that If I didn’t leave the spice, she was going back to her parents.
I would just smoke another bowl in front of her and laugh every time she brought it up.
“One day I won’t be here.” she would continue to say. I knew she was capable of leaving, I just didn’t see the value in our family any longer.
That’s why I say spice is nothing like weed, this shit is a drug. It’s like fucking heroin, it’s addictive, you can die from it and not to mention you get physical withdrawals if you go too long without smoking the stuff.
It makes your priorities all fucked, it makes you forget who or what you are. All you can think about is chasing that high all day.
So eventually she did leave, she took all her stuff with her, and that was that.
I didn’t see her for about a week because I was just getting high. By the time I did see her, she had already made that fateful decision that she had to move on for the better interest of our son.
Nobody could believe that I could just let her go without a care in the world, but what I didn’t know was I did care. The moment I saw that she moved on and I knew we were not going to reconcile is the day it hit me. She’s gone.
Did I quit smoking spice? Of course not, I started smoking more. I started smoking more to the point where I would smoke myself to sleep. I would just smoke all day.
I couldn’t get her out of my head now. The woman that the spice had made me lose, the one that I didn’t even think about when we first broke up, would not allow me to take her out of my mind.
I was haunted by the thought that my ex no longer cared for me. I slipped into a deep depression.
I couldn’t eat or sleep. I lost 50 pounds within two months; never in my life had I weighed under 180, and I went down to 150.
Anyone who took one look at me would realize something was not right. Did I quit smoking spice though? Of course not.
I got a pretty decent job in March of last year. I still remember when I was offered the position calling my son’s mom first to tell her the good news. We always kept a good relationship for our son, and I guess I had hopes of us reconciling after this. That summer I began attending college, I did most of my homework at my new job but the one thing that did not change was the spice.
I was still smoking spice, and spice was still the deal breaker between my ex and I. She would not return if I still smoked spice. Did I quit smoking spice? Of course not.
We never reconciled, just more arguments about me getting high.
It has been four years since I quit smoking weed, four years that I had smoked myself stupid into this cloud of god knows what manmade chemicals.
I mean for all I know, they can find cancer caused by this shit I’m smoking. This shit can literally put me in a coma, and I may never wake back up.
I know this shit is bad for me, but why the fuck can’t I just stop smoking it?
I was recently laid off from my job in the oil industry due to the drop in oil prices. Last Friday, I told myself I would quit smoking this fucking spice, and since I no longer had to worry about a drug test for at least a year (I’ll receive unemployment benefits for attending college), I got my medical marijuana recommendation.
What I did not yet realize is how bad I am addicted to this shit. I haven’t smoked it since Friday, but I can honestly say this has been the longest week of my life.
Saturday night I did not sleep. I threw up a few times, had cold sweats and almost went to buy spice at least 4 or 5 times. I had a gram of weed and a gram of hash oil and smoked it all but it didn’t do a thing.
Sunday morning I called my friend, he had just had surgery a few weeks back and remember he had some Norco’s. I took two, went home hit a bowl and passed out for about three hours until about noon.
Sunday was a shitty day, I woke up exhausted but I could not sleep. I laid in bed for hours tossing and turning but could not sleep. I had no appetite, I forced myself to eat a banana that day and to drink few glasses of water. That night I could not sleep again.
This continued the next day, still feeling shitty getting cold sweats, nausea and no appetite and still could not sleep that night. Between Saturday morning and Tuesday night I must have slept at the most 7 or 8 hours throughout the entire time.
I have never gone through anything like this in my life, but I have no one to blame other than myself.
Tuesday, my friend gave me two edibles he got from a medical club out of town, after a few wax hits I actually began to feel the effects of the weed. This was the first time since I had quit smoking spice I felt high again, it was the high I missed, the good-old-natural-organic-weed-
high not the-intense-Im-having-a-heart- attack-high spice gives you.
I still didn’t feel sleepy, though, but somehow managed to fall asleep after 3am. I slept about 6 hours straight which was a godsend that night.
Wednesday was the first day I had chores to do all week, so I kept myself busy during the day, I was feeling fine throughout the day, I had finally regained my appetite and that night I made sure to have a great session, and I actually slept 8 hours for the first time that night.
It took a solid 4 days to detox myself of the chemicals in spice to the point to where I could finally function.
I can honestly relate the ordeal I went through with quitting other schedule 1 drugs. The withdrawal effects are enough for me to know that I will never pick up spice again, I actually feel more alive now.
I function better, don’t get me wrong I’m still going to smoke weed, but the change is incredible.
Written by an addict