Behind The Curtain 20: When It Was Time To Make A Change, She Found She Wasn’t Alone – July 6, 2010

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Hi, I’m Caitlin and I’m a stoner”

Caitlin paced back and forth from her living room to the dining room, through the kitchen and back again. She should leave in 15 minutes, she thought.

Without thinking she walked into the garage, picked up the pipe, lit the match and took a deep drag. She could feel the tension leave her stomach, her shoulders fell.

“But, I need this now,” she thought, looking at the clock and grabbing her car keys from the hook by the door. “Another stumble in the road,” she thought.

She parked her car in the Misty Village apartments and headed for the Community Room.

“No Train Wreck” was the theme of this MA, or Marijuana Anonymous meeting. A funny pun, but ironic for Caitlin as her boyfriend and growing partner, Jake, was tending a crop by the same name at home this very hour.

She heard the attendance would be surprising. After all, people have been smoking pot since before Christ.

She remembered hearing stories of her uncle being put in a Tijuana prison for attempting to smuggle it across the border in the 1950s.

Familiar faces smiled at her around the room as she took a seat. Some she knew, some she didn’t.

Some she knew still grew and that made her feel hopeful.

One by one she watched and listened as each person in attendance rose, stated his or her name and why they were there.

She wondered why she was there, sipping weak coffee in a stuffy room on a Tuesday night. Finally, it was her turn.

“Hi, I’m Caitlin and I’m a stoner,”

“Hi, Caitlin,” the room responded accordingly.

“I started smoking pot when I was 16,” she continued. “A friend had a joint and we went into the gas station bathroom a block from my house. It was probably around 7:30 in the morning because we were on our way to class – high school,” she paused to see the reaction. “Didn’t do so well that year.”

A few chuckles could be heard around the room, but respectfully quieted.

“I knew the first time I tried it, I liked it,” she said. “It made me feel calm and I didn’t have that at home.”

Those who understood nodded heads in silent agreement.

“My mom wanted me to be safe so she helped me grow a plant in the backyard with some seeds I brought home. When my dad found out he made us pull them up, but I dried it all in the oven and smoked it anyway.”

Laughter ensued and Caitlin smiled at her own folly.

“Over the years I’ve smoked and not smoked, depending on how my life was going,” she paused, knowing the next admission would change the course of her life forever. “I don’t want to say I’m addicted, but it’s definitely become a chronic habit and I’m ready to make a change.”

Caitlin stood there unsure what to say next and glanced at a list of 12 steps on the wall.

“I’m ready to admit that I am powerless over marijuana,” she said, reciting step number one, tears filling her eyes.

The room applauded, ensuring she had said enough. “It’s a beginning,” she thought, and took her seat.

A young man with blond dreads stood up next to her.

“Hi, my name is Kaleb and I’m addicted to marijuana.”

Hi, Kaleb!”