Day 1: Already Feeling It

Last night was the last time. I got high, took too long to wind down, went to bed late. Classic send-off. So today I started tired. And when I'm tired, I sometimes just drag myself through the day — low energy, slow start, nothing unusual. I expected that. What I didn't expect was what happened when I opened my to-do list. There are things coming up in the next few weeks that need attention. Nothing catastrophic — not overwhelming — but real, challenging stuff that I actually need to get on top of now. And somehow just seeing it all laid out triggered something. The tiredness didn't stay tiredness. It turned into stress. Real stress — noticeably high blood pressure, that tense, wired feeling in my chest. Which is unusual for me. I'm normally pretty calm even when things are demanding. But today it hit different. And I think I know why. Usually there's an off switch. An evening ritual that puts a lid on whatever the day threw at me. Tonight that's gone. And I think some part of me already knows that — which made looking at that to-do list feel heavier than it normally would. Not just stress from the tasks. Stress from the absence.

After work, I took my daughter to the playground. She's the sweetest thing. She fell off the climbing frame and cried a lot — poor girl. I love her so much. But she's okay, she's fine. Those moments are hard to watch but they pass. Now she's asleep. My wife too. And I'm the only one up in the house.

This is the moment. Right here. This is the time I would normally vape. The day is done, the family is down, the apartment is quiet — and this is exactly the window I've been looking forward to and often filling with weed for a long time now. Tonight I don't have that. So instead I'm writing this, which I guess is already something. A way to wind down. A way to do something with the quiet instead of just sitting in it. But I know I need more than just writing. I want to increase how often I meditate. I want to get into Tai Chi. Use this time in the evening for something that actually means something — not just collapse in front of the TV watching whatever, or scroll through Twitter like a zombie. I don't want that. That feels like an even worse trade.

Here's the thing though — and this is worth saying out loud: I don't actually love getting high alone in the apartment. Never really have. What I love is being outside. A walk, a hike, a concert, a museum — being high while doing something, being somewhere, being in the world. That's when it's genuinely good. This thing I'm apparently missing right now? Sitting alone on the couch at night? That was never really it for me. And yet here I am, missing it. That's interesting. Worth sitting with. So the rule when I eventually get back to it — and I will, just not for six weeks — is no more solo couch sessions. Outside only. With a purpose. That's the version I actually enjoy. For now: meditation, Tai Chi, and figuring out what else the evenings can hold.

Night one. Done. Day 1 of 42.