I started with pot at age 13. I smoked just about everyday until I was 19. It consumed me, I think I was looking to belong, as my parents were going through some shit, and wound up divorcing by the time I was 19.
I cut the whole 10th grade, and that sucks, because I should have been a doctor or an engineer or something. Instead I had to go through the school of hard knocks. My parents answer was to stick me in a daytime drug rehab called Pheonix House in Manhattan. I went there for 16 months. I never stopped doing drugs, but it taught me a lot, and gave me the information I needed to stop, once I was forced to stop.
I passed with such great flying colors through that course, that I was even promoted to graduate with the full time residents, a first for someone from my program.
I got to do fun things like wash 8 flights of stairs with toothbrush, and once they found out I was a good painter, I painted the entire place. We washed pots big enough to stand in.
I was practically a counsler by the time I left. I got to meet Nancy Reagan, and was presented an award.
I never stopped drugs however, and then I started experimenting with a little concaine, and then took some mesc, by the third time I took it, I had a bad trip. When I felt what was happening, I ran home, and told my Dad, what I did, and told him to keep an eye on me, just incase I tried to do something stupid. I started seeing all bad stuff, and then I decided to try and make it a good trip, so I picked up some porn, and used my hallucinations to jerk-off. Then I went through 5 hours of hot and cold chills. (porn saved my life?) When I woke up the next morning, everything I touched, made me have a flashback, including cigarettes.
I stopped everything, for 7 years. Well except alcohol, but I wasn't much of a drinker, just some beers every now and then.
Then I started again, but by this time, I was too busy with life for it to consume me. Only pot. Sometimes I would not smoke for months.
It wasn't until I had my religious experience, or more precisly, when I felt what I believe to be God's Holy Spirit, that my desire to smoke, was completely gone. I don't know why I got to have that experience, as I was not at rock bottom or anything, as a matter of fact, life was fine. Didn't even notice my desire to stop, until about a month later.
I had kept a bag of chocolate (pot) just incase I decided to smoke again. I was still drinking, but only very casual, maybe once, twice a month.
About 6 months went by, and I felt like smoking, so I grabbed a fishing pole, a cigar, and a beer, and headed down to the dock, with my trusty bowl of 20 years. I started fishing.
At my dock here, during the summer, I always catch fish, I always see action. But that night I was catching/seeing nothing. About 45 minutes went by, and I decided to smoke. I felt the urge to pray.
I asked God, God, if you do not want me to smoke, make a big fish jump out of the water. Then I took it back, because I thought it might be wrong to ask that. I put the bowl away.
Another 15 minutes went by, and still no action whatsoever. I decided to smoke again, and I reached in my pocket and touched the bowl with me finger, and then wham! a big fish jumped out of the water!
WEll I grabbed my trusty bowl of 20 years, and tossed it as far as I could into the lake. When the bowl hit the water, another fish jumped out.
I then proceeded to catch 3 of the biggest walleyes I've ever seen, and kept one to eat.
It's been 3.5 years since that day, and maybe once and awhile I think about smoking, but the urge quickly goes away. I still drink, but not too much.
That is one of those "subjective" experiences that make me believe in God.
Peace.
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