🌿 High & Healing: How Cannabis Helped Me Slow Down & Show Up

Let’s get one thing straight: I didn’t come to cannabis for clarity.
I came to cope.

I came burnt out. Overstimulated. Numb.
Pulled in a million directions, stretched thin, running on fumes and survival.
I was surviving — not living.

But somewhere in the haze of a solo session, something shifted.
I got quiet. I got still.
And for the first time in a long time… I felt present.

This is how the healing began.

From Escape to Intention

Like a lot of people, I used to reach for weed to check out.

It was my off-switch. My reward at the end of a hard day. A way to silence the noise, soften the edges, or sleep through the chaos.

But cannabis — when you actually pay attention — has a funny way of flipping the mirror on you.

It starts as an escape, but if you stick around, it becomes a teacher.
A mirror. A magnifier. A medicine.

Instead of zoning out, I started zoning in.
Tuning into my body. My breath. My thoughts.
Noticing what hurt. What needed love. What needed rest.

Weed didn’t numb me. It showed me where I was already numb.

I never thought I’d fully tell this story publicly —
let alone be celebrating it loudly, with pride…
but here we are.

For years, I carried pain — deep, unrelenting, and in many ways, invisible to most.
Mental health struggles weighed heavy on my spirit — from deep depressions, trauma, self-harm, and suicidal ideations. ADHD spun my mind in chaotic tornadoes. Underneath it all, there was physical pain. Sometimes crippling, always constant.

But I never spoke about it. Not the physical pain, at least.
Not to doctors. Not to friends.
Not even to myself.

I just kept going.
Because that’s what you’re taught to do, right?

“It’s nothing.”
“It’s just growing pains.”
“It’s life.”

Then Came the Plant

Cannabis wasn’t new to the world. But it was new to me in a way that mattered.

I found it not as a trend — but in a moment of desperation.
When nothing else worked.
When pharmaceuticals left me a fogged-up version of myself.

[Funny how pharmaceuticals are legal but make you feel foggier than cannabis, huh?]

Cannabis cleared the fog.

It softened the screaming edges.
It calmed the tornadoes.
It gave me a space to breathe.
To think in a straight line.
To just… be.

It let me be home within myself.
Calm. Present. Awake.
Relieved — even if just for a moment — of the torment that lived inside me.

Slowing Down is a Radical Act

In a world that glorifies hustle and constant productivity, slowing down feels like rebellion.

But cannabis reminded me that slow isn’t lazy.
Slow is sacred.
It’s where presence lives. It’s where healing starts.

Smoking became my reset button. A ritual of pause.

I’d step outside. Feet in the grass. Blunt in hand.
And suddenly — time didn’t feel like it was slipping away anymore.
It stretched.
It softened.

Cannabis helped me stop rushing through life and start showing up for it.

Showing Up — For Real

When I stopped treating weed like a crutch and started using it like a companion, I changed.
Not all at once. Not dramatically. But steadily.

I started showing up:

For my kids, with more patience and presence.
For my work, with more creativity and clarity.
For my self, with more softness, honesty, and care.

It wasn’t about being “productive.” It was about being awake.
About being in my body, in my moment, in my life.

Weed didn’t make me perfect. But it brought me back —
to myself. To my pace. To what really matters.

But It Was Illegal

Back then, this sacred plant was still criminalized.
And I was the outcast.

The “druggie.”
The “dopehead.”
The black sheep in a family that didn’t understand.

But the truth?
I wasn’t getting high to slack off.

I was just trying to stay alive.

I risked everything — including my freedom — just to feel human again.
I knew a single traffic stop, a random search, or the wrong job finding out could ruin me.
And still… I chose it.

I bought illegally.
I grew illegally.
Even after catching a possession charge.

Because that’s what desperation does.
That’s what hope does.

It pushes people to defy unjust systems.
It makes us fight for our healing when no one else will.

The Budfolk Way

Cannabis isn’t just a plant.

It’s a lifeline. A bridge.
A medicine that saved me — and my son.
It saved my sanity, my presence, my motherhood, my joy.

This is what being Budfolk means:
It’s not about getting stoned to forget.
It’s about healing, connecting, remembering.

Rooted in intention.
Lit with purpose.
High on truth.
Low on bullshit.

Breaking the Stigma

We live in a world where people still whisper about this sacred medicine.
Where parents fear judgment.
Where pain is policed.
Where healing is still criminalized.

But I will not be quiet.

We have to speak its name with reverence.
Break the silence. Shut down the shame.

Healing is NOT a crime — it is our birthright.

Cannabis has helped addicts, cancer patients, trauma survivors, veterans, children, and so many others.

It is not just about getting high.
It is about staying alive.
It is about coming home to yourself.

🌱 Full Circle

Today, on 4/20, cannabis is legal in my state.
Today, I can finally say it loud: This saved me.
And this is now… my career.

The thing I once hid from the world now funds my family’s health, wealth, and peace.

Here’s to the plant.
To the growers.
To the rebels.
To the ones who blaze and don’t break.

We have come far — but we’re not done.

Let’s keep telling our stories.
Let’s speak them BOLDLY.
Unapologetically.
For the ones still hiding.
For the ones still hurting.
For the ones still risking it all.

💚 To You, Budfolk

If you’ve ever lit up just to make it through the day —
If you’ve ever used this plant to reclaim your joy, your body, your mind, your peace —
You are Budfolk.

You are not broken.
You are brave.

We don’t just smoke to get high.
We smoke to heal.
To reconnect.
To rise.

Keep speaking up. Keep showing up.
We’re slowly winning this battle.
One blunt, one truth, one story at a time.

What’s Your Story?

Has cannabis helped you shift?
Slowed you down? Woke you up?

Drop it in the comments.
Let’s share the highs that healed us & the lows that put us there. 💨