Living Hurts Too Much
I started smoking marijuana when I was eight. My grandpa used it for medical reasons, so I saw him smoking it all the time. If he ever left any of it out, I’d snag it and go out and smoke it by myself.
We moved when I was around 12, and it’s tough moving to a new place at that age. Even after a year, I only had two friends. So I smoked marijuana more often. That’s how I coped. One day, my friends followed me into the woods and caught me in the act; they didn’t talk to me for about a year and a half after that. So much for having two friends. Now I had none.
So I got really depressed. Not having anyone to talk to will do that to you. I started smoking up hard core, and then I realized I was broke and I needed a way to get more of it. So I started dealing. I got really good at it, too, and I made a lot of money. My life was even threatened several times by some of the people I was involved with. And my parents had no idea.
Throughout that whole time, I was really, really down. I felt like no one really understood me. Marijuana was the only thing that got me out of my head a bit and made me happy. Sometimes, when I got really depressed, I would load one bullet into a gun, and pull the trigger while pointing it at my head.
Then one night, January 3, 2015, I got a lot of marijuana. It was all spread out on my desk in my bedroom. I had decided I was either going to kill myself that night, or smoke all the drugs I had. I had a knife out; my plan was to cut my wrists. But I was playing my music too loud, so my mom came in. She took in the whole scene, and freaked out. She thought the marijuana was all my grandpa’s. She got my dad, who came in, and he started freaking out, too.
I had decided I was either going to kill myself that night, or smoke all the drugs I had.
My dad and I were having issues at the time, so him being there made the whole situation even worse. He threatened to call my grandpa, which was most likely going to get my grandpa in trouble. I was still holding the knife, so I pointed it towards my dad. I don’t remember how my mom got the knife out of my hands, but she did.
That night was a turning point in my life. It really scared me.
After that, I started getting help to deal with my depression. I went on anti-depressants and started seeing a counselor. I haven’t smoked marijuana since that night in January, which has definitely helped things. Even though I still have anger issues, I’m able to deal with my emotions through physical activity. And I’ve made a lot more friends.
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These struggles are difficult. If you’re considering harming yourself or others, please read this!