A Green Fog

    I was watching Hannity tonight; the topic of his show: Pot and its effects on our youth, our citizens and our nation, now and in the future, especially if federally legalized. Legalization is a controversial subject—makes for a great show with both those for and those opposed having reasonable, passionate arguments upon which their position is founded. I will not go into details on the debate. I believe almost every American has heard them.

   

      I have a handful of friends who smoke weed occasionally. They are not addicted to it. A toke on a joint mellows them out after a stressful day at work. They don’t smoke and drive.  They don’t smoke themselves stupid. Others in my life, who must remain unidentified, are without a doubt addicted to pot, and some entered through the gate to alcohol, prescription drugs and illegal drugs. All those who are addicted also smoke cigarettes. And all, whether addicted to weed or weed and other drugs or alcohol have either utterly been destroyed by it or flounder in unmotivated laziness.Their health, their memories, their ability to perform physically (this includes sexual), have been severely impaired. One died a few years ago, one had a heart attack several years ago, another is on dialysis, near death. Their ages range from teens to the fifties and sixties.

     Unfortunately, what person knows whether or not he is the one prone to addiction? Is it worth the risk? Some say yes. I say no because every individual interacts with family, children, friends, coworkers and strangers. If one smokes around them, they are contaminated. Society is drained by those who can’t hold a job. Brains are wasted in the stupor of the high. Memories are damaged. People are killed and maimed in car accidents by those that drive under the influence.

   How do I personally feel about Marijuana? I am the martyr, the victim. (I say this with the back of my hand to my forehead, my eyes closed as if to faint from the terrible weight of my burdens.) In reality I am both an enabler and a bystander. I don’t smoke. I don’t drink. A little alcohol goes straight to my head, giving me migraines and making me puke—after just one drink. I have never tried hard drugs, except one time when I was given a black beauty. I took half of the powder and was so wired I felt every molecule in my body vibrating and I hated it. My system is sensitive to all drugs, even the legal ones. Half a child’s dose of Benadryl will knock me out. I confess that I do have an addiction—caffeine.
     I was hooked as a teenager on coffee with cream and sugar, and Dr. Pepper. Later, as a mom and business woman, holding down extra part-time jobs to make ends meet and driving a teen and preteen around for all their activities, I discovered ephedra for extra energy— it was an herb, (so it had to be okay, right? Wrong!) I became hypersensitive to all stimulants. I get arrhythmias and panic attacks from even 1 cup of tea, half a cup of coffee or 3 good sips of Dr. Pepper.  Now, I drink only decaf beverages, but no diet drinks because aspartame and sucralose cause headaches and rashes. The following is my reaction to second hand exposure to pot.

    When the pungent, putrid odor of the plant and the smoke of a joint reach my nostrils, I want to get away, plug my nose and cover my mouth. I feel panicky, become nauseated, and the steady crescendo of a nagging headache begins. I often get arrhythmias. The longer I’m exposed to it, the worse I feel and yet I get the munchies which make the nausea worse. My coordination becomes affected; I feel dizzy and bump into things. Maybe for some, this is fun, but for me it is a nightmare. I try to explain this to those who smoke it around me, but they dismiss me as psychotic. I usually exile myself to my room, though it doesn’t help much, and sometimes leave my own home to escape the torture.

     Once someone cooked weed in spaghetti sauce and fed it to me, thinking it would be hilarious to get me stoned. I swear I thought I was losing my mind and having a stroke. I could hardly walk, form coherent sentences or see straight, and was so dizzy I thought I would pass out. The nausea hit me hard and so did the migraine. The person confessed to me what they had done. I was livid. I don’t put stuff like that in my body. What right does anyone else have to do such a thing to me? Shouldn't the same apply to smoke?

     And, to add insult to injury, those in my life who use the stuff are a drain on family finances, my finances. I can't take care of everybody, nor should, and I have far too often, but cutting people off is complicated, especially family.

    Do I get angry at those who want to legalize pot? Those who smoke pot? Yes, but I am also saddened knowing what a high percentage of pot smokers and their families will suffer in the future, knowing what this country will suffer in the future. Pot, drugs and alcohol problems will never be solved by government regulation or deregulation.

     In everyone there is a hole in their soul that only God can fill, and the only way to be filled with His Spirit is by faith in the saving work of Yeshua (Jesus,) the Messiah. In Him the soul is reborn. An eternal perspective on life is revealed and the temporary, fleeting satisfactions of selfish “pleasures” seem unworthy of precious time and resources. Seek that which is eternal, and be filled beyond measure with greater wisdom, peace, joy, hope and love—even in the trials of life.

Written by Lori Vidak 4/25/14