Spring Comes Slowly

All good things are worth the wait.

My mind and body hasn’t been used to not being stoned on the daily for something like three or four years. On the weekends I’d smoke as soon as I got up, during the week as soon as I got home from work. Maybe it’s my usual strains, definitely it’s me, but the munchies hit me real hard so every night was treat yourself night. I spent an inordinate amount of money on pizza, cookies, chocolates, ice cream, cakes, sweets, tarts—you get the picture. There was no such thing as self-control and all regret was quickly forgotten thanks to how absolutely fried my short-term memory was. On top of that there was often lethargy and a lack of motivation, and my precious lucid dreams were all the more difficult to come by. I might just be susceptible to addiction, but either way it was unhealthy and unsustainable. Something had to give.

I had tried quitting once or twice before by flushing my stock down the toilet, ironically while high every time; when the cravings kicked in the next few days I blamed the smoking for such an irrational decision. Obviously it wasn’t long before I relapsed every time, and the vicious cycle simply continued. “This time is different” feels like crying wolf at this point, but this time is different.

If you’ve read my post from not too long ago you’ll know that I’m no stranger to struggles—some more struggly than others. Many of those issues share the same roots and can be resolved by the same means, but it’s an uphill battle and time doesn’t give a shit. I often feel as though I’m getting past my prime faster than I’m able to establish myself as an independent man. It may be conceited but I’m within spitting distance of 30 and I still haven’t accomplished much: I don’t have a liveable salary or any savings to speak of, my work experience is meagre and qualifications in limbo, none of my creative or sporting endeavours have yet amounted to anything, and I’m still working through traumas nearly two decades old. Job applications go unanswered, scholarship requests fail, submissions for publishing get rejected, and thus far multiple career paths have led to dead ends. So what’s the point?

I’m gonna go on yet another tangent now, but bear with me, it all makes sense in the end (how’s that for foreshadowing?).

If you’ve read some of my other posts then you’ll know I’m all about my garden. I’ve had my patch of paradisal dirt for two years, and ever since I dug up the grass and planted my first seeds it’s been my most beloved sanctuary. However, the garden has presented its fair share of struggles. Idyllic as it may be, the soil is pure and utter garbage and in all two years has only yielded some watermelons, three ears of maize, a handful of radishes and peas, and a few buds of substandard pot. I’ve dealt with awkward seasonal changes, dwarfing plants that flower too early, pests galore, and my own incompetence. The third spring has finally arrived, and I thought this time I’d finally get it right. I bought a nice big load of compost and made sure to time my planting with the weather reports. By now things have started coming up—the mielies and pumpkins are going pretty strong, but my watermelons and cucumbers, though germinated, are having a little trouble getting past their cotyledons; the peppers simply disappear a few days after sprouting.

Last year the summer heat arrived early. Combined with the bare clay-like soil it meant that everything but the aforementioned peas failed. But this year the gods have been mild, and spring has been gradual. The weather has been warm but not too hot and serendipitously cloudy and wet at all the right times. We’re already a few weeks past the equinox, but there’s still time to figure out what’s wrong and set it right. The beautiful thing is that the last two years have been opportunities as much as effing trials—I’ve had two whole years to make mistakes and learn from them, all I had to do was be patient, wait for another season, and try again. All I had to do was persevere.

It was Saturday the 25th of October (I think—memory formation was a bit shoddy) that I flushed the last of some crappy outdoor I got from a guy who was “on his way” for 3 hours and “nearby” for half. Now, I’m not quitting for good but just for at least a few months to clear my head so that I can try for some self-control and moderation next time I hit the electric lettuce. And next time I want to get as baked as a cake, something that hasn’t been possible thanks to the built up tolerance. It’s going to be well worth it—not only the long wait, but the nightmare that has been the last two weeks. Cannabis withdrawal is nothing compared to something like heroin, but it’s still not fun, especially not when your brain is already chemically imbalanced. First came the cravings, then the restlessness and anxiety, and before I knew it I was in the deepest depression in ages, including being bedridden, having a full-on meltdown in front of everyone at work, and barely being able to move my thumb to scroll through facebook. 

I’m over the brunt of it now, thank the gods. I’m still not 100%, but the positives have been noticeable: my short-term memory has improved and so has my sense of smell, even to the point where it was a bit overwhelming at first. I’m thinking and speaking a bit more coherently too, which is a big plus as I’m considering a job change in the next few weeks to teaching English online. It’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life, but my pay and my options at my current job are stagnant and I’m very clearly unhappy. I’m hoping the change will give me financial security as well as the free time and energy I need to pursue the things I actually want to do in life. It’s a little scary, but I made it through the last two weeks so I bet I’ll be just fine. Good things come to those who wait, but you’ve got to put the effort in yourself. It’s easier said than done, and often there won’t be opportunities to make a way out, but better to be open to change, even if it’s not the change you were hoping for, than clinging onto stagnation and toxic cycles.

Oh I just know that something good is gonna happen!