Earlier, I was thinking how sometimes my writing sparkles clear in sunlight, while others it is muddy, often shallow. I am learning to use this cycle to advantage.
I write best when my symptoms are at bay. And, I keep them at bay.
Brushing them back with cannabis. But.
Things break down. Symptoms intrude.
I chase them, increasing my dose. Hoping.
They go away.
Eventually, they disappear, but only after I bottom out.
I typically rebound. A floor higher than the basement. I found myself, in.
My ceiling, lower than some past, previous floor.
Rebound is when marijuana can inhibit my writing. After chasing symptoms with heavier doses, and diminishing effect, I need that break.
Today, I hadn’t used any since the day before yesterday. It’s subconscious subtle. I don’t even notice a decision to abstain. I just notice that.
By evening. I haven’t used any all day. And, I ask.
Myself. Can I sleep the night without?
If I think so, I know. I am bouncing back.
But, I still can’t write. I can’t think.
I sleep. I do things. I move around, caring for vegetables, and two cats.
My camera takes photographs. I appreciate that. I enjoy this beautiful world.
As pain creeps back into picture, the game begins.
How long can I wait, as worse it gets?
Today, this evening. A Thin Mint, vaporized.
Finally. Feeling good enough to write.