I am a 55 y/o female that spent my teen years during the late 60's / early 70's during the height of the hippie era. Of course I smoked pot! Tried acid, cocaine and some things you no longer hear about but I only liked the feeling pot gave me. It heightened my senses, especially in listening to music, feeling the music and interacting with those around me. It seemed somehow more acceptable back then, people seemed to over look it. When the chemicals came along, drugs could no longer be ignored. As they outlawed everything one by one, people started using dangerous chemicals to get high. Now, the chemical drugs are just downright dangerous to your life. Pot is still, well pot, when left untreated with these dangerous chemicals.
I smoked pot off and on from the middle 60's until the present. In the late 80's I was married, raising two little ones and working 10-11 hours a day. I was so busy being mom, wife, employee, etc. that I had no time for me. I was sleeping 3-4 hours/night and was running on autopilot and borrowed time.
Throughout the late spring in 1998, we rehabbed a squirrel. In June she was ready to be released. That's when I noticed things changing within me. I ignored the weird feelings and crying and tried to act normal. I was anything but and deteriorating! A friend finally noticed and recognized Xanax. I went back to work but could barely function. My medical then referred me to a shrink. I had my first panic attack while driving to work on the day of my shrink appt. I had no clue what I was feeling. I shook from head to foot, sweated, had no idea where I was or where I was going. I somehow made it to work and my best friend happened to be arriving as well. She knew what was happening and encouraged me to let her take me home, which I did.
That afternoon I met with my shrink for the first time and she changed my meds and took me out of work for a week. I seemed to stay in a state of panic and didn't want to go out of my house. I went back to work after my week out, had another panic attack upon arrival and my husband came to take me home. I have not worked since late September, 1998. I have been on disability since that time. I have not been the same person since the series of panic attacks during that time. I continue to have panic, panic attacks lasting approximately 2 hours and take Cymbalta and Xanax. I have learned to deal with my symptoms but continue to have sleep issues. I have tried everything from nutrition to herbal meds to prescription meds and currently use a combination of the three.
In about 2001, a friend suggested that I smoke a little pot. I had not really smoked much pot since 1980 and willing to try anything to make me feel more 'normal'. I was shocked how well it worked! I could concentrate and absorb information so much better. It seemed to slow down my 'ticker tape' brain so I could think. I could think better so I got more accomplished although I was still a homebody. I started cooking and cleaning more (I had to relearn most things), I taught myself to play autoharp and was able to sleep without medication. Pot made me feel better even though I was a long way from being the 'old' me, but I felt this was the best it was going to get. I bought from my contact on a regular basis until his death in 2007.
Since his death I have been unable to find a regular, trustworthy contact. I haven't really asked a lot of people because I don't want to ask a cop, I don't want something that's been treated and I want someone that I can buy from regularly. I now have proof for myself how much pot helps me since I no longer have access to it. If I start a panic attack, I take 2-3 mg of Xanax then another 2 mg if I don't notice a difference in 30 minutes. The attack lasts about two hours or until I fall asleep. I then feel 'out of it' for a day or two. With pot, when I start an attack I smoke 3-4 tokes and take 1 mg of Xanax. The pot starts almost immediately and within 30-45 minutes later the attack starts easing up. I usually smoke a few more tokes after the shaking eases up enough and just chill for the rest of the day. I'm ok the next day.
I was a big supporter of medicinal marijuana approval because it helps me so much. I was then slapped in the face with the realization that if medicinal marijuana were approved, my doctor would not prescribe it. Now my only option is to pray for total legalization and, hopefully, trustworthy contacts will come out into the open. Tax it if they must, it's good medicine and I need it!
If I can save just one person from going through the horrors I have been through, I have made a wish come true for me and somebody else.
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