If someone would have told me, twenty-some-odd years ago, that I would find myself, at 38, not only using cannabis as medicine but cultivating my own, I would have told them they were nuttier than squirrel shit. Since my early teens, I have been an avid user, but I don’t think I truly believed in the medicinal properties. I blame this, in part, on the stigma that has always surrounded this wonderful plant. I was made to feel like a loser, that I was lazy, and that only lowlifes partook in the old jazz cabbage. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
As a young teenager, I smoked because I thought it would make me cool. And I fuckin’ liked it. I liked the buzz, I liked the taste and smell, and I liked the ritual of it all. But I never thought of it as medicine. I was just getting high. Soon, I was using it as an escape. As anxiety and depression sunk their claws in me, I wanted nothing more than to be numb. And rather than face and acknowledge my problems, I would run from them. Bury them deep down and cover them with hops and bong resin. This led me down many a dark and violent path and culminated in me fighting off dope sickness, staring down the barrel of an eight-year prison sentence.
I did my time, beat my addiction to heroin, stopped drinking, and using out of anger or remorse. But still, I wasn’t happy. Depression tightened its grasp on me, and I just let it. This affected my relationships with my family, my children, my friends, and my significant other. In an act of desperation, I moved to southwest Missouri, hoping a change of scenery would be the ticket. I started going to school for welding and began making new friends. But the ever-present cloud only got darker and heavier.
It was a minor accident at school that finally got me thinking about my well being. I got a piece of metal in my eye and had to give in and go to a doctor. As it turned out, my blood pressure was through the roof, and my anxiety-driven depression was affecting me a lot more than I ever imagined. The doc put me on some antidepressants and blood pressure medicine. The antidepressants helped some, but I found the bad days were even worse now. After discussing things with my girlfriend, we decided I should try to sign up for the Missouri MMJ program. I decided to get the cultivation card as there were no dispensaries open yet, and I thought it would make a good hobby.
I spent the better part of 4 months studying anything I could find on the subject. Reading books, watching videos, listening to podcasts. I was dumbfounded by how far the cannabis industry had come. I also learned how to properly use cannabis as a medicine and not just a numbing agent. I now find myself dipping my toes into this ever-widening pool of cannabis culture, and am preparing to dive in headfirst.
Through this blog, and wherever it may lead, I hope to not only learn but teach others. Through my studies, I have found an astounding amount of misinformation and bro-science. I want to help dispel a lot of these myths through the scientific method and trial and error. I will not only be sharing my triumphs and failures but also discussing cannabis culture, science, law, etc. I will also be sharing honest and thoughtful reviews of the products that I use. Hopefully, I can make a big enough wave to start getting some discounts for anybody willing to listen to me blather on.
If you took the time to read this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Any and all support in this endeavor means the world to me. I cannot express how excited I am to walk this path, and if I can help anyone on their path, that only makes it better.
Be sure to check me out on Facebook and Instagram @southwestmogrown and on Twitter @Smogrown where I will be sharing up to date pictures, stories, and anything else cannabis-related. Thank you again for your time.
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