Happy Freedom Day (to me.)

Finding the right meds warrants a holiday.

Image source: Pixabay.

Two years ago, my depression medication was legalized in Oregon.

I didn’t know that cannabis was the solution for my decades of seemingly endless depression. That terrible fog that left me panicked and useless, the morose longing for something that I couldn’t name… also, back the hell up if you don’t want me to bite your head off.

Unlike a lot of people with depression, I found a treatment that worked for me. Today, on November 2nd, I celebrate the day I was able to see the world for the first time.

I still remember it, quite acutely. It was the second day I had ingested cannabis (which I actively tried to avoid up to that point). It was more out of an urge to be a part of history than anything. We’d been hearing about how #legalization was going to happen at some point. So why not be a part of it? At least this attempt at trying pot wouldn’t be against my will, issued through the hazy living room of a co-op meeting room.

What I didn’t expect was the ensuing mental calm that followed after I had the medicine that finally worked for me. It felt like a miracle.

For non-depressed people, it’s hard to articulate how it feels to not be ruled after depression for the first time. The lack of gnawing forces…