Saturday, 25 October 2014

Breaking Down Boxes With the Plant

My mental illness is such that once I'm in, I have a hard time getting out.  If mental quicksand had a feeling, this would be it.  I'm in it right now.  Just had a wee break-down of tears in my hunni's arms. The saltiness of the tears must have dispersed the sand particles enough for this bout of inspiration to take place.  Thank Goddess for those tears.

"Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts." ~Charles Dickens

Let's see how long this quicksand dispersal fluid works.  So when I'm stuck, the thoughts are a circle, a vicious circle.  It usually involves me thinking or mumbling the same or similar phrases over and over, depending on the problem, issue, or trigger.  Cognitive Behavioural Therapy teaches you to acknowledge these actions so you may correct them.  But I'll tell you, my furry bff Molly is better than anything CBT ever taught me, though I admittedly didn't give it an honest try.  I know when I'm mumbling out loud nowadays, because she looks up at me as though it's to she that I speak.  Those sweet big brown eyes pull me back to the here and now where we all belong. What if all dogs are therapy AND go to heaven?  Oh I'm betting my life on that one.



I have the BEST arguments with my 'opponents' at these times, saying things that I normally wouldn't have the nerve to say.  I wish I could write more when I'm in the sand because I can have primo 'keyboard cahonies'.  When I write, I begin to feel that no one can interrupt me, no one can disagree with me, and no one can negate how I feel.  These words are mine.  I feel power from that.  In my zombie phase taking various prescribed concoctions of pharmaceuticals, I allowed other people to silence me, tell me how to think, in turn what to believe. Ideologies are huge and they can develop quickly without your knowledge.

Try to visualize and imagine a door that, when you try to open it, will appear to have glue or super-sticky gum all around the edges.  This gluey gum allows you to push it open a bit, so you can see the subject matter inside, but then very quickly it snaps back shut.  I can see it clear as day in my mind. Can you?  Those doors lead to the rooms that are the blog ideas I have in the back of my mind.  I've been working on them for a few weeks now.  I'm so proud of myself at times, that I can do this now. When I was on pharmaceutical antidepressants I couldn't even begin to hold, develop, and form stories and ideas like this.

My mind does work effectively .... when it's workin' effectively.

But it's that gluey gum that's the problem, that's my depression, my box called MDD ... Major Depressive Disorder.  It's funny now that I actually thought putting a label on my box would make it any less deep and constricting.  The only thing putting a label on your box does, is make you easier to prescribe to.  Sorry for that ... but I truly believe that pharmaceuticals took away a large part of my life.  I realize personal responsibility comes into play here, but when an already impressionable, overly-agreeable following type goes on antidepressant meds, they sometimes turn into zombies.

You've heard of the "Zombie Apocalypse" right?  Well I'm convinced all zombies are just brain and body damaged humans who prescribed to too many GD profitable meds in the hopes of attaining normalcy.

I and millions of other sufferers of mental illness have found something that melts that gluey glue.
Cannabis Sativa of numerous strains and ratios promotes new thought.  New thought can cancel out old, cyclical, damaging thought.  The longer I allow the cyclical negative chatter to go on, the more power it holds over me.  Like a tornado or the Tasmanian devil, the impulsion of that spiral grows with time making it harder to stop or pull out of.  For best results, stop it quickly.

Analysis of one's self is something that can promote mental and physical health.  I see and feel my mental illness changing.  I talk to myself a lot more than I ever did before.  Sometimes I say what I'm writing as I write it.  I worried about it on and off a few weeks ago.  But then I thought to myself:

"Remember Dianna how you felt no different, no better when the white-coats labeled you with MDD almost ten years ago?  Don't fall into the label trap again.  It is not accurate.  It is not real for me."

In closing, I'll share something that I thought the other day at work as I walked into the kitchen, and realized I had totally forgotten why I was there.  To be honest, some may argue the short-term memory loss thing in conjunction with Cannabis.  But I do believe it does effect me.  But that's why they make pens and paper and adorable multi-coloured post it notes!

Yes ... my medicine can sometimes hinder my memory.  But the last one completely suppressed my orgasm, my bowels, and my desire to write.

For me, Cannabis just makes sense.


My body .... my choice what goes into that body.

Tramadol (opioid) vs. Olive Oil Cannabis Infusion vs Coconut Oil Cannabis Infusion.

So many ways to ingest a medicinal plant!