No, Cannabis Isn’t the Harmless Substance You Think It Is

Abusing the herb ruined my life

Before I begin bashing Bob Marley’s favorite pastime, let me make my position clear: I am staunchly pro-legalization. More to the point, I am in favor of legalizing all drugs. Does this mean I think all drugs are safe? Or that we should start handing out Hunter.S.Thompson-style suitcases at bar mitzvahs?

Of course not.

The issue is people can easily procure drugs if they want them, regardless of said drugs' legal status. The fact the drug underworld is flourishing, and will continue to flourish, proves the deterrents don’t work. As the Global Commission on Drug Policy pointed out back in 2011, the war on drugs has been a catastrophic failure:

“The global war on drugs is a failure and should be replaced by decriminalization strategies grounded in science, health, security and human rights, according to a recent report by the Global Commission on Drug Policy.”

If history has shown us anything, it’s that large amounts of people will continue to use recreational drugs. Being able to control and regulate these substances would take power away from cartels, ensure the drugs didn’t contain dangerous components like fentanyl, and result in new streams of tax revenue.

Have I made myself clear?

Good.

Now let's talk about how cannabis ruined my life.

The beginning of a love-hate relationship

My first encounter with weed happened when I was 14. I was at the local park with a couple of mates and, after gingerly taking my first toke, I coughed my lungs out (usual for first-timers). I kept smoking, and coughing then proceeded to giggle incessantly before floating home to eat a lot of food. No anxiety, no paranoia — just a warm, fuzzy, giggly feeling.

I then started smoking weed more regularly—mainly “soapbar”(a kind of cheap, mild hashish). My mate and I would watch movies, play computer games, and generally have a good time.

By the time I was 15, I was smoking high-strength cannabis on a daily basis. Cheese, AK-47, Silver Haze, you name it. My mother suffered from depression so was mainly confined to her bed, and pretty much left me to my own devices. This equated to hotboxing my bedroom with my partners in crime almost every evening.

High-grade skunk is a pretty damn powerful intoxicant. Without going into too much depth about the difference between Indica, Sativa, and hybrids, the experience of being stoned (or lean as we say in the UK) is like being lathered in a syrupy coating of contentment. As your brain is flushed with dopamine, everything seems to slow down. Your senses are heightened: music becomes more profound, sex more pleasurable, food more delicious. The issue is when you abuse cannabis; when being stoned is your default state, all the impact of these things is lessened. The giggles and feelings of psychedelic exploration gradually give way to an addiction to anesthesia.

I didn’t simply “enjoy” smoking weed.

I was numbing myself.

Then the paranoia began to set in.

Cannabis and psychosis

“It is now incontrovertible that heavy use of cannabis increases the risk of psychosis.” — PubMed.gov

In the beginning, a heightened sense of self-awareness is to be expected. Feeling a little socially awkward, not knowing what to say or how to say it, exaggerating the significance of a bungled phrase—all completely normal.

But, as I continued to abuse cannabis, my paranoia increased.

I was always self-conscious about how young I looked for my age. When I used to go to the pub stoned I was overwhelmed with feelings of discomfort, assuming everybody was judging my youthful appearance. Obviously, the reality was nobody gave a shit. But my confused, drug-addled brain was convinced of it. I felt intensely vulnerable, and it always took 2–3 pints to wash these feelings away.

Did I pay attention to these glaring warning signs?

Of course not.

As I continued to smoke the negative effects became more pronounced. There is no doubt in my mind that cannabis played a significant part in contributing to my psychosis. I would go so far as to say that, if I’d never smoked cannabis, I doubt I would have had the two psychotic episodes that derailed my life.

Why am I so sure?

When you’re that familiar with the effects of a drug — you just know. And I am a veteran when it comes to cannabis-induced hallucinations and paranoia.

Unfortunately, I am one of the unlucky few who, due to genetics and environmental factors, is at risk of cannabis-induced psychosis. As this review from Psychiatric Times points out:

“Specifically in youth, there is a direct relationship between cannabis use and its risks. The lack of knowledge surrounding its detrimental effects, combined with misunderstandings related to its therapeutic effects, has potential for catastrophic results.”

Certain people (like myself) who abuse cannabis in their youth, when their brains are developing, are dancing with the devil:

“Cannabis is considered an environmental risk factor that increases the odds of psychotic episodes, and longer exposure is associated with greater risk of psychosis in a dose-dependent fashion. The drug acts as a stressor that leads to the emergence and persistence of psychosis.”

The issue is that the popular strains of cannabis today are vastly different from those of 40 years ago. Though referring to Colorado, I would wager this study could easily be transposed to the UK:

“Prior to the 1990s it was less than 2%. In the 1990s it grew to 4%, and between 1995 and 2015 there has been a 212% increase in THC content in the marijuana flower.”

Without going into too much depth about the science of weed, I’ll put it as simply as I can.

• CBD has well-known antipsychotic effects.
• THC has psychotic effects.
• Cannabis formerly contained less THC and enough CBD to balance out the negative effects of THC.
• The cannabis my friends and I used to smoke had extremely high amounts of THC, and negligible amounts of CBD.
• Cannabis isn’t to blame for my psychosis, rather abusing high-THC strains at a young age is.

I’m not exaggerating when I say weed really is my kryptonite. Recently, after not smoking for years, I foolishly had one toke of a joint. I spent the subsequent 4 hours shivering under the blankets in a state of terror.

That’s how cannabis affects me today.

Cannabis isn’t for everybody

Many of my friends who used to regularly smoke cannabis have quit. These days, they won’t even partake in a toke. When we discussed why they simply told me they no longer liked the way it made them feel. There are a couple who haven’t stopped smoking weed every day since they were kids and don’t feel any significant negative effects. Every friendship group has one or two of these genetic freaks—lucky bastards.

Ultimately, “cannabis” is an insufficient blanket term. When we use the word we are describing a vast range of potencies and effects. In my opinion, the strongest strains are like a completely different class of drug to the mild ones.

When we were 16, my friend’s Dad tried some of what we were smoking at that time. He had one toke and thought it was so strong it must be laced with something else.

That says it all.

In a lot of leftwing media today, weed is shown in a kind of comic relief (think of daily chuffers Seth Rogan and Snoop Dog). We all join in the laughter about how such a mild substance (one that just gives you the giggles and the munchies) hasn’t been legalized yet.

But, as I have shown, there is an undeniable dark side to this drug.

If you’re an adult, enjoy smoking weed, and don’t experience much in the way of negative effects, then by all means blaze on brothers and sisters. This isn’t directed at you. What’s more, I’m aware of the huge amount of research on the medicinal value of cannabis (not for nothing is it called the miracle herb). As I said, I am very much pro-legalization. But by the same token, I am also pro-awareness. It is essential we educate younger generations on the potential harm of high-strength weed. In no way, shape or form is cannabis the harmless drug many think it is.

Do I miss weed?

I’ve got to be honest — yes, yes I do. Weed is a hell of a lot of fun. But, even if I didn’t experience any negative effects from cannabis, I’m not sure I would be using it regularly today. As Randy from Southpark puts it:

“Pot makes you feel fine with being bored, and it’s when you’re bored that you should be learning some new skill, or discovering some new science, or being creative. If you smoke pot you may grow up to find you aren’t good at anything.”

Or you may increase your chances of psychosis.

It’s your call.

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