Day after day, I can feel the return of the rage and pain which were my constant companions until I started treating my depression with medical marijuana. For the first time in years, I truly felt the desire to die, the utter despair of full force depression. I thought that I was past it… I thought that the fight would be enough to foster my desire to live. I was wrong.
The paradox of my life is that the only anti-depressant which makes it bearable to be me is forbidden to me by law… If I make my life worth living by taking my medicine, the state will take my life from me, by imprisoning me, and will thereby deprive me of my medicine. That is what has happened to me now. I paid for my medicine by helping others get it.. and now the State in its infinite wisdom and compassion, has decided to make it impossible for me to get it.
If they insist on ruining our lives, why doesn’t the State just go whole hog and end them? Is one more recalcitrant slave worth what it costs to keep me locked up? I do not set my life at a pin’s fee… why should they?
Normally, when I had this kind of thought, I kept it to myself. I never wanted to risk incarceration by telling the truth. I guess that now, being incarcerated, I have nothing left to lose. If only the truth really had to power to set us free!
For those who suggest artificial, big pharma style anti-depressants, I suggest that you look into the recent mass shootings… every single one of them was carried out by a person on psych meds. No thanks, if I go out, I’ll do it alone. And having see one of my best friends die from Prozac, I suffer no illusions that it can’t happen to me. Prozac kills. Pot does not. Big Pharma must make a lot of politicians filthy rich to keep their poison legal while stealing the lives of those who choose natural alternatives.
The last irony I will point out is the irony of being in a state whose motto is “Live Free or Die”, but ill allow me neither option.
N10-1291 (Rich Paul)