Well, I was blazed as a neon cat when I made my last blog, which pretty much everyone guessed. I know I meant to actually write something in it, but that cat just took over.
Anyways, I'm not blazed right now, in fact I've stopped smoking, for now at least. I realized I was doing it to just pass the time and to some extent I was using it as a form of escapism from reality, which is never any good. I used to do that with video games, and that was never any good. I've stopped smoking before because I ran out of weed, because I needed to pass a drug test, because I broke my glass. All involuntary quits, I realized I had never actually quit on my own, so now I'm doing it. I still have at least a G of it stashed, but I'm not touching it for now. It has been a little over a week and I've come to the startling reality that I'm not as in control of my mental state as I thought I was. The weed allowed me to self-medicate my depression and anxiety to an extent, but without it I'm realizing it's getting worse rather than better. I've never had anxiety attacks before, but I've had two in the past month, almost over nothing too. My depression is also getting worse. I've never thought about suicide this much or this hard, but it comes into my head every night now. I'll lay awake for hours, even if I feel dog tired before getting into bed. All the things I've done, haven't done, or just put off come into my head and pound that I'm a failure over and over. It scares me, because I think I need professional help to conquer this, and I have no idea who to turn to. My father is one to scoff or get angry at this. My mother is one to worry herself to death over this. My brother is one to ignore this. I would have no way to pay for it. And even now I don't know if this even matters at or if it is all in my head.
Here is a picture of pugs:
