Written by Myself with research and writing assistance from OpenAI
I’ve used cannabinoids almost every day for the past 25 years. And no—I’m not glued to a bong, and I don’t wake and bake unless it’s intentional. Some mornings, the emotions from vivid dreams linger—stirring rumination and anxiety. On those days, a morning inhalation helps me come back to myself.
Most mornings, though, I don’t ingest anything at all. I often wait until late afternoon or evening, leading up to bedtime. And yet—I feel fine. Balanced. Clear. Productive.
And yes, I still dream. In fact, I dream so vividly it feels like I’m living another life on the other side. Lately, those dreams have taken me horseback riding—doing the things I always longed to do with my own horses. In waking life, I gifted my mare and her gelded son to someone I trusted—someone I believed could offer them more, and who I knew they’d teach in turn. Still, the guilt lingers. Morning brings memory, and memory brings ache.
That’s where the plant helps.
Cannabinoids soften the edges. THC gently mitigates the guilt and negative thought loops. Limonene lifts me. Linalool calms. CBD steadies my mind, reduces THC’s sedative effect, and brings clarity. Each one plays a role.
This isn’t escape. It’s intentional support. A conscious, purposeful way to meet my mornings—especially the heavy ones—with presence, not paralysis.
What I’ve come to believe is that my endocannabinoid system (ECS) is well-fed. Nourished, not overloaded. I’ve reached what some call the “Goldilocks zone”—not too much, not too little—where all systems hum along in alignment. Some days I consume more—concentrate caplets or homemade cannabis oil—and other days, far less, perhaps just a few dabs throughout the day. This isn’t a 'one puff every 2 to 4 hours' kind of regimen. This is ingestion based on how I feel in the moment and each day includes moments where each cannabinoid and terpene combination shines.
It wasn’t always like this. Years ago, I felt I needed more. Like many patients exploring cannabis therapeutically, I had to find my ideal dose and format. But over time, something changed. My baseline improved. I could go without for long stretches and still feel stable. Not because I built tolerance, but because my system had learned how to function with cannabinoids as intended: as modulators, not constant crutches. This is my experience, primarily rooted in mental health. Others may face chronic pain or physical conditions requiring heavier morning use just to greet the day. But they do, each day like clockwork. To each their own based on need and educated effect.
This isn’t a dependency story. It’s a homeostasis story.
In my other line of work, I help season humidors for cigars. The process starts by slowly, purposefully overloading the dry wood with humidity—not to damage it, but to saturate it fully so it can later maintain balance with minimal effort.
I’ve come to see my ECS the same way. After years of stress and trauma, some bodies forget how to produce enough endocannabinoids. For those people—including myself—there may be a phase of therapeutic saturation, where higher intake is needed to wake the system up. Once it’s humming, like a seasoned humidor, it takes far less to maintain balance.
Doctors call it “chronic use,” but what if it’s seasoning? What if it’s a necessary overload to restore function?
Sometimes the body needs a flood before it remembers the rhythm.
A close friend followed this same pattern—I made her the oil myself. She needed a lot at first. Now, her intake is lower, more varied, and sustainable. She’s not dependent—she’s tuned.
THC and the “Fat Vault” Hypothesis-Storage for Survival Mode?
THC is lipophilic—meaning it binds to fat. That’s why it stays in the body for weeks or longer after use. Drug tests rely on this. But what if this wasn’t just residue—but a strategic backup system?
• A 2009 rodent study confirmed that stored THC was re-released during fasting and stress-induced fat breakdown (PMCID: PMC2782342)
• A 2013 human study found significant spikes in blood THC levels in regular cannabis users after 35 minutes of moderate exercise. Those with higher body fat had greater spikes (PMCID: PMC4270258)
• The phenomenon isn’t just residual. It may be biologically designed—a survival fallback, where cannabinoids are mobilized alongside energy during crisis, fasting, or exertion
What does THC do?
• Regulates mood, pain, appetite, inflammation, and immunity
• Balances neural activity and gut-brain communication
• Promotes adaptability in response to physical and emotional stress
That’s exactly what a body needs in survival mode. Think: lost in a forest, deep into a water fast, fleeing a threat—when your system needs all hands on deck.
This is not mythology. It’s measurable. Studies confirm this re-release effect. The question is whether it serves a biological purpose. I’d argue it does—because the pattern appears across many survival responses, not just cannabis metabolism.
Parallels: How the Body Uses Stored Compounds Under Stress
We already celebrate the body’s ability to release helpful molecules under controlled stress:
• Cold immersion (e.g., ice baths) triggers massive surges in:
– Dopamine (up to 250%)
– Norepinephrine (up to 530%)
– β‑endorphins and serotonin
– Improves alertness, mood, and stress resilience (PMC9953392)
• Heat therapy (sauna or fever response):
– Increases heat shock proteins
– Supports detox and immune resilience
– Mimics cardio and reduces inflammation
• Fasting and extended exertion:
– Promotes lipolysis (fat breakdown)
– Boosts endogenous opioids and ketones
– May release stored cannabinoids from adipose tissue as shown in human and animal trials
• Intermittent hypoxia (e.g., breath-hold training, high-altitude simulation):
– Stimulates stem cell proliferation and neurogenesis
– Enhances oxygen efficiency and mitochondrial resilience
– May trigger hormetic repair responses similar to fasting or sauna exposure (PubMed: 32816994, PMC8480852)
>This shows a pattern: The body stores what it finds useful, and retrieves it when needed.<
Clinical Endocannabinoid Deficiency (CECD)
The theory of Clinical Endocannabinoid Deficiency, introduced by Dr. Ethan Russo, proposes that many chronic conditions may stem from inadequate endogenous cannabinoid production (Russo, 2004 & 2016).
Conditions linked to CECD include:
• Migraine
• Fibromyalgia
• Irritable Bowel Syndrome
• PTSD and mood disorders
• Some autoimmune and inflammatory conditions
In these individuals, the ECS may be underperforming or dysregulated, failing to produce enough anandamide or 2-AG to maintain systemic balance.
This isn’t speculation—it’s supported by measurable reduced endocannabinoid levels in some clinical populations, including PTSD patients and migraine sufferers.
So while mainstream narratives may see long-term cannabis use as dependency, what if it’s actually therapeutic repletion? A form of nutritional support for a system that’s starved, silent, or forgotten.
Long-Term Use, Reconsidered
Here’s what I’ve personally experienced after 25 years of use:
• I use less over time—not more
• I skip days without struggle or craving
• I use it primarily for sleep and mental closure and to mitigate negative thought loops
• My whole-body health is more stable than it was in my 20s as though it's in a Goldilocks stasis
This is not dependency. It’s regulation. When the ECS is fed, it finds rhythm. When cannabinoids are stored, they’re available—not inert.
Like electrolytes or ketones, cannabinoids may serve as stored reserves, released when needed, especially under stress.
Closing Thoughts
Your endocannabinoid system is not optional—it’s foundational. It regulates nearly every major system in the body, from immunity and digestion to cognition and sleep.
When it’s deficient, the body can’t adapt properly. When it’s nourished—through lifestyle, diet, and yes, mindful cannabis ingestion—it can function as intended: as the master balancer.
We accept that hormones, neurotransmitters, and even immune cells are stored, released, and recycled. Why not cannabinoids?
For me, cannabis has been a tuning fork, not an escape hatch. A helper, not a crutch. And in the rare moments when stress, fasting, or trauma hits hard—maybe that quiet THC in my fat cells is doing more than just waiting to be flushed.
Maybe it’s waiting to help me survive.
Further Reading & Sources
1. THC Storage and Re-release During Fasting or Exercise
• Reintoxication: Cannabinoids Released from Fat Stores in Rats (PMCID: PMC2782342)
• THC Re-release During Exercise in Humans (PMCID: PMC4270258)
2. Cold Immersion & Hormonal Response
• The Neurobiology of Cold-Water Immersion (PMCID: PMC9953392)
3. Intermittent Hypoxia and Stem Cell Activation
• Intermittent Hypoxia and Adult Neurogenesis (PubMed: 32816994)
• Hypoxic Conditioning and Mitochondrial Biogenesis (PMCID: PMC8480852)
4. Clinical Endocannabinoid Deficiency (CECD)
• Clinical Endocannabinoid Deficiency: Reconsidering Its Scope and Relevance (PMCID: PMC5576607) – Ethan Russo
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