momofthegoons
vapor accessory addict
I know we have several veterans on the forum and I want to thank all of you for your service....
Veterans Day
- Thread starter momofthegoons
- Start date
grokit
well-worn member
"Chronic Commando"
It's Veteran's Day. Let's keep in mind what we are truly celebrating-- those who serve to ensure that Americans, and people around the world, are able to reap the benefits of freedom.
So many servicemen and women sacrifice to secure our freedoms. When they return home, many suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and should have the freedom to treat those symptoms with whatever medicine they feel is appropriate. In the majority of medical marijuana states, those suffering from PTSD are ineligible to receive MMJ cards. Here is the story of one of those veterans.
This piece was originally published in NUGGETRY Magazine.
Through a lot of my teenage years, I felt lost. I never did really well in school, wasn't especially talented when it came to athletics, and would rather have spent my afternoons smoking in my parents' basement than thinking about the future.
As my friends got ready to go to college or start careers, I quickly realized that I needed some direction in my life. My easy solution? Join the military. It made my parents feel like I was becoming a productive member of society, would let me travel, and (I hoped) would buy me some extra time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.
I surprised myself by excelling through basic training, and eventually was deployed to Iraq. I know you have all heard stories about the horrors of war, and my first tour was no picnic. I did things that I never thought I would be capable of and saw things that I wish I could erase from my memory. I counted down the days until I would get to go home to my family and see my friends again.
When it finally came time for me to go home, my initial feeling was relief. I wouldn't have to constantly be on alert. I wouldn't have to worry about my friends on a daily basis. I wouldn't have to continually worry about every step I took. When I left for home, I thought I was regaining the life that I had before I left for Iraq. What I didn't realize was that my battle was just beginning.
After returning home, it became clear to my friends that I wasn't the person I had been eighteen months before. The anxieties I expected to leave behind carried over to my life back in Oregon. I was always on alert; from a car backfiring to a suspicious looking man on a cellphone, every day things had me on edge. I knew that I was struggling to adjust, but had my wake up call one night about three months after I had returned home.
I had been suffering from nightmares for weeks, and my roommate told me that he would hear me crying out in the middle of the night. He would hear me shout commands, or peoples' names, or just indecipherable yells. One night he came to wake me up, to stop me from yelling and help me avoid whatever anxieties my dreams were causing. As he leaned over me and touched my shoulder to wake me up, I shot up and punched him square in the jaw.
It was almost like I blacked into what was happening. My heart was racing and I was sweating. I saw my roommate on the floor holding his face and I started to put the pieces together. That's when I really knew that how my time in Iraq was impacting me.
Later that week, I went to my military doctor to see what he recommended to help me. He told me that it definitely sounded like I was suffering from symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). My VA rep had given me the standard run down of PTSD and what to look out for once I got home, but I never thought that I would get that bad. My doctor explained that it was common-almost 30% of Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans deal with some symptoms of PTSD.
He recommended that I start taking an anti-anxiety medication, Lorazepam. He said that is would help me with my anxiety while I was out throughout the day and could help with my issues at night. I had never taken ANY prescription medication before, but was willing to give it a shot.
At first, I liked the Lorazepam. My moods did seem to balance out a little bit, and my friends said that I was more 'back to usual.' I started sleeping better, had a more positive outlook, and wasn't having flashbacks like I used to. As time went on, the pills started making me feel worse instead of better.
A few months in to taking the anti-anxiety pills, I sank back into feeling depressed. I was lethargic, didn't want to leave the house, and even considered suicide. I just felt like I wanted my old life back, didn't want to be on pills, and just wanted to be myself again. I felt like I had just totally lost my identity. I decided that while living my life suffering from anxiety was not the answer, living under the influence of these pills was not the answer for me, either.
I had my doctor wean me off of the anti-anxiety meds and decided to try going to support groups instead. There, I was able to talk with a lot of other vets who were suffering from PTSD as well. I had been too embarrassed to talk to my military brothers about it-I did not want them to think I was weak or that they couldn't rely on me.
After a meeting one week, I went to have dinner with Mark* (Name has been changed), who had started going to the support group at the same time I had. We drove separately, and as he walked up to me at the restaurant I could smell marijuana smoke on his clothes. I asked him, "Dude are you medical?" and he said no, that he didn't have any injuries to get him a card, but that he had a guy who hooked him up. Mark claimed that the weed just helped mellow him out and kept him from feeling stressed out in public or when he was trying to sleep through the night.
I hadn't smoked weed since going into the military... I had smoked pretty regularly in high school but let it go as I got older. Mark offered me a joint, and I took it. I wasn't sure if I actually would smoke it, but I figured it was better not to make a scene.
When I got home that night, I really debated whether I should smoke it. What if it made my anxiety worse? Or what if my tight ass neighbors called the cops after smelling it? As I lay awake that night I just said "fuck it" and lit up. That is the first night I had an actual restful night's sleep since I had gotten home.
The next morning, I decided to smoke again. I sat there on the couch watching tv and in my mind was just kicking myself. How did I not think of this sooner? This relaxing sense of euphoria just blanketed me and I was convinced-I needed to get a medical marijuana card.
I went back to my doctor to talk to him about getting a medical marijuana card and was informed that I didn't qualify. In Oregon, you can get a card for cancer, HIV/AIDS, Alzheimer's disease, and glaucoma, among other diseases. What's missing from that list? PTSD. Despite the fact that I had seen my symptoms wiped away with the hit of a bong, Oregon would not let me use it. Instead, they would prefer that I keep taking prescription drugs that made my symptoms worse.
I walked out feeling so defeated. I knew what I needed to make myself feel better, but I could not get it legally. So now I am forced to buy my marijuana from Mark, who luckily I trust, but I do not like being forced to break the law. I am a veteran, I am a friend, I am a proud Oregonian, but I am no criminal.
For years, medical marijuana advocates and veterans' rights advocates have been trying to have Oregon accept PTSD as a qualifying condition for medical marijuana. The state rejected petitions to add PTSD to the list as recently as last fall. Lawmakers who are opposed to veterans using marijuana to treat their PTSD symptoms say that therapy should be the focus. Therapy helps, but if my doctor doesn't hesitate to put me on anti-anxiety pills, why shouldn't I have the option to use medical marijuana-a natural solution-instead of riddling my system with prescription drugs that just make me feel worse?
There is now a newly proposed bill in Oregon, Senate Bill 281, which would add Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to the definition of "debilitating medical condition" for medical marijuana. There haven't been any votes on it yet, but there are set to be public hearings and potentially work sessions regarding the bill later this year.
Right now there are 18 medical marijuana states in the US, and only five allow people suffering from PTSD to receive a doctor's recommendation to use it. Other states, such as Arizona and Colorado, are also working to have PTSD recognized as a qualifying condition for medical marijuana use but have faced resistance from lawmakers who feel there is not enough proof that medical marijuana helps PTSD sufferers.
I am proof that medical marijuana helps PTSD sufferers. Marijuana has proven to help me more than any other drug, therapy, or avenue provided to me to help deal with my anxiety.
I am coming out of the shadows to speak out in defense of myself and others who have put their lives on the line to protect our country. I may not be a legal medical marijuana card holder, but I do use marijuana medicinally and it has helped me regain my life. I had times where I thought I would not get passed my anxiety and my struggles, but I have reached a point where I have normalized and regained my life.
I feel as though I am finally back to the person that I want to be and the person that I was before I was deployed. I hope that through sharing my story I will inspire others to reach out to their Congressmen and their lawmakers to help those suffering from PTSD gain access to medical marijuana.
It's Veteran's Day. Let's keep in mind what we are truly celebrating-- those who serve to ensure that Americans, and people around the world, are able to reap the benefits of freedom.
So many servicemen and women sacrifice to secure our freedoms. When they return home, many suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and should have the freedom to treat those symptoms with whatever medicine they feel is appropriate. In the majority of medical marijuana states, those suffering from PTSD are ineligible to receive MMJ cards. Here is the story of one of those veterans.
This piece was originally published in NUGGETRY Magazine.
Through a lot of my teenage years, I felt lost. I never did really well in school, wasn't especially talented when it came to athletics, and would rather have spent my afternoons smoking in my parents' basement than thinking about the future.
As my friends got ready to go to college or start careers, I quickly realized that I needed some direction in my life. My easy solution? Join the military. It made my parents feel like I was becoming a productive member of society, would let me travel, and (I hoped) would buy me some extra time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.
I surprised myself by excelling through basic training, and eventually was deployed to Iraq. I know you have all heard stories about the horrors of war, and my first tour was no picnic. I did things that I never thought I would be capable of and saw things that I wish I could erase from my memory. I counted down the days until I would get to go home to my family and see my friends again.
When it finally came time for me to go home, my initial feeling was relief. I wouldn't have to constantly be on alert. I wouldn't have to worry about my friends on a daily basis. I wouldn't have to continually worry about every step I took. When I left for home, I thought I was regaining the life that I had before I left for Iraq. What I didn't realize was that my battle was just beginning.
After returning home, it became clear to my friends that I wasn't the person I had been eighteen months before. The anxieties I expected to leave behind carried over to my life back in Oregon. I was always on alert; from a car backfiring to a suspicious looking man on a cellphone, every day things had me on edge. I knew that I was struggling to adjust, but had my wake up call one night about three months after I had returned home.
I had been suffering from nightmares for weeks, and my roommate told me that he would hear me crying out in the middle of the night. He would hear me shout commands, or peoples' names, or just indecipherable yells. One night he came to wake me up, to stop me from yelling and help me avoid whatever anxieties my dreams were causing. As he leaned over me and touched my shoulder to wake me up, I shot up and punched him square in the jaw.
It was almost like I blacked into what was happening. My heart was racing and I was sweating. I saw my roommate on the floor holding his face and I started to put the pieces together. That's when I really knew that how my time in Iraq was impacting me.
Later that week, I went to my military doctor to see what he recommended to help me. He told me that it definitely sounded like I was suffering from symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). My VA rep had given me the standard run down of PTSD and what to look out for once I got home, but I never thought that I would get that bad. My doctor explained that it was common-almost 30% of Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans deal with some symptoms of PTSD.
He recommended that I start taking an anti-anxiety medication, Lorazepam. He said that is would help me with my anxiety while I was out throughout the day and could help with my issues at night. I had never taken ANY prescription medication before, but was willing to give it a shot.
At first, I liked the Lorazepam. My moods did seem to balance out a little bit, and my friends said that I was more 'back to usual.' I started sleeping better, had a more positive outlook, and wasn't having flashbacks like I used to. As time went on, the pills started making me feel worse instead of better.
A few months in to taking the anti-anxiety pills, I sank back into feeling depressed. I was lethargic, didn't want to leave the house, and even considered suicide. I just felt like I wanted my old life back, didn't want to be on pills, and just wanted to be myself again. I felt like I had just totally lost my identity. I decided that while living my life suffering from anxiety was not the answer, living under the influence of these pills was not the answer for me, either.
I had my doctor wean me off of the anti-anxiety meds and decided to try going to support groups instead. There, I was able to talk with a lot of other vets who were suffering from PTSD as well. I had been too embarrassed to talk to my military brothers about it-I did not want them to think I was weak or that they couldn't rely on me.
After a meeting one week, I went to have dinner with Mark* (Name has been changed), who had started going to the support group at the same time I had. We drove separately, and as he walked up to me at the restaurant I could smell marijuana smoke on his clothes. I asked him, "Dude are you medical?" and he said no, that he didn't have any injuries to get him a card, but that he had a guy who hooked him up. Mark claimed that the weed just helped mellow him out and kept him from feeling stressed out in public or when he was trying to sleep through the night.
I hadn't smoked weed since going into the military... I had smoked pretty regularly in high school but let it go as I got older. Mark offered me a joint, and I took it. I wasn't sure if I actually would smoke it, but I figured it was better not to make a scene.
When I got home that night, I really debated whether I should smoke it. What if it made my anxiety worse? Or what if my tight ass neighbors called the cops after smelling it? As I lay awake that night I just said "fuck it" and lit up. That is the first night I had an actual restful night's sleep since I had gotten home.
The next morning, I decided to smoke again. I sat there on the couch watching tv and in my mind was just kicking myself. How did I not think of this sooner? This relaxing sense of euphoria just blanketed me and I was convinced-I needed to get a medical marijuana card.
I went back to my doctor to talk to him about getting a medical marijuana card and was informed that I didn't qualify. In Oregon, you can get a card for cancer, HIV/AIDS, Alzheimer's disease, and glaucoma, among other diseases. What's missing from that list? PTSD. Despite the fact that I had seen my symptoms wiped away with the hit of a bong, Oregon would not let me use it. Instead, they would prefer that I keep taking prescription drugs that made my symptoms worse.
I walked out feeling so defeated. I knew what I needed to make myself feel better, but I could not get it legally. So now I am forced to buy my marijuana from Mark, who luckily I trust, but I do not like being forced to break the law. I am a veteran, I am a friend, I am a proud Oregonian, but I am no criminal.
For years, medical marijuana advocates and veterans' rights advocates have been trying to have Oregon accept PTSD as a qualifying condition for medical marijuana. The state rejected petitions to add PTSD to the list as recently as last fall. Lawmakers who are opposed to veterans using marijuana to treat their PTSD symptoms say that therapy should be the focus. Therapy helps, but if my doctor doesn't hesitate to put me on anti-anxiety pills, why shouldn't I have the option to use medical marijuana-a natural solution-instead of riddling my system with prescription drugs that just make me feel worse?
There is now a newly proposed bill in Oregon, Senate Bill 281, which would add Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to the definition of "debilitating medical condition" for medical marijuana. There haven't been any votes on it yet, but there are set to be public hearings and potentially work sessions regarding the bill later this year.
Right now there are 18 medical marijuana states in the US, and only five allow people suffering from PTSD to receive a doctor's recommendation to use it. Other states, such as Arizona and Colorado, are also working to have PTSD recognized as a qualifying condition for medical marijuana use but have faced resistance from lawmakers who feel there is not enough proof that medical marijuana helps PTSD sufferers.
I am proof that medical marijuana helps PTSD sufferers. Marijuana has proven to help me more than any other drug, therapy, or avenue provided to me to help deal with my anxiety.
I am coming out of the shadows to speak out in defense of myself and others who have put their lives on the line to protect our country. I may not be a legal medical marijuana card holder, but I do use marijuana medicinally and it has helped me regain my life. I had times where I thought I would not get passed my anxiety and my struggles, but I have reached a point where I have normalized and regained my life.
I feel as though I am finally back to the person that I want to be and the person that I was before I was deployed. I hope that through sharing my story I will inspire others to reach out to their Congressmen and their lawmakers to help those suffering from PTSD gain access to medical marijuana.
Melting Pot
Sick & Twisted
Thanks for sharing @grokit
Someday we all will have legal access to our sacred herb.
And Thank you for all that you & your fellow military brothers & sister's sufferd for our freedom.
"Step foward now you soldier, How shall I deal with you? Have you always turned the other cheek, And to my church have you been true?" The soldier squared his shoulders and said, "No Lord, I guess I ain't, Because those of us who carry guns, Can't always be saints "I've had to work most Sundays And at times my talk was tough And sometimes I've been violent Because the streets were awfully rough" But I never took a penny, That was'nt mine to keep Though I worked a lot of overtime When the bills just got to steep, And I never passed a cry for help Although, at times I shook with fear And sometimes, God forgive I've wept unmanly tears I know I don't deserve a place Among the people here That never wanted me around Except to calm there fears If you have a place for me here O' Lord It needn't be so grand I've never expected, or had so much But if you don't I'll understand" There was a silence all around the throne Where the Saints had often trod As this soldier waited quietly For the judgment from his God "Step foward now you soldier, You've borne your burdens well Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets, You've done your time in Hell" To all that have served; SSG. P. T. Pack
Someday we all will have legal access to our sacred herb.
And Thank you for all that you & your fellow military brothers & sister's sufferd for our freedom.
"Step foward now you soldier, How shall I deal with you? Have you always turned the other cheek, And to my church have you been true?" The soldier squared his shoulders and said, "No Lord, I guess I ain't, Because those of us who carry guns, Can't always be saints "I've had to work most Sundays And at times my talk was tough And sometimes I've been violent Because the streets were awfully rough" But I never took a penny, That was'nt mine to keep Though I worked a lot of overtime When the bills just got to steep, And I never passed a cry for help Although, at times I shook with fear And sometimes, God forgive I've wept unmanly tears I know I don't deserve a place Among the people here That never wanted me around Except to calm there fears If you have a place for me here O' Lord It needn't be so grand I've never expected, or had so much But if you don't I'll understand" There was a silence all around the throne Where the Saints had often trod As this soldier waited quietly For the judgment from his God "Step foward now you soldier, You've borne your burdens well Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets, You've done your time in Hell" To all that have served; SSG. P. T. Pack
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Melting Pot
Sick & Twisted
grokit
well-worn member
Edit: ^ In respect to what I'm posting here, I only 'like' the middle image 
Reclaiming Armistice Day
Celebrating Veteran’s Day American-style means celebrating war and the people who wage it. It’s who we are. It’s what we export. Should we even be celebrating Veteran’s Day? I mean, was there some sort of mix up along the way? Didn’t we miss something that was supposed to happen on the 11th?
On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918, fighting stopped in the war to end all war. A war that left approximately 17 million dead and another 20 million wounded. Congress passed Armistice Day, a resolution calling for “exercises dedicated to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding, inviting the people of the United States to observe the day in schools and churches with appropriate ceremonies and friendly relations with all other peoples.”
https://www.popularresistance.org/reclaiming-armistice-day/
Reclaiming Armistice Day
Celebrating Veteran’s Day American-style means celebrating war and the people who wage it. It’s who we are. It’s what we export. Should we even be celebrating Veteran’s Day? I mean, was there some sort of mix up along the way? Didn’t we miss something that was supposed to happen on the 11th?
On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918, fighting stopped in the war to end all war. A war that left approximately 17 million dead and another 20 million wounded. Congress passed Armistice Day, a resolution calling for “exercises dedicated to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding, inviting the people of the United States to observe the day in schools and churches with appropriate ceremonies and friendly relations with all other peoples.”
https://www.popularresistance.org/reclaiming-armistice-day/
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Farid
Well-Known Member
There's a generation of people that isn't going to be here much longer. Both my grandmothers died this year, the last of that generation in my immediate family. My mother's mother lost a brother who died during training to go to Europe to fight Hitler. Her future husband, my mother's father, was stationed on a destroyer escort in the Pacific, where he defended against the Japanese. On the other side of my family, my father's great uncle spent the first part of the 1940s fighting the Japanese in Burma, in the British Indian Army. When the war was over, him and other Indian troops organized a revolt against the British, using capture Japanese weapons.
Soon enough, the last WWII veterans will be dead. If you know anybody that was alive at the time, take a moment to talk to them about it. I wish I had been able to meet my great uncle. My grandmother's memories of him were just from her childhood, so I have never been able to hear the details of his experiences in Burma. That combined with the fact that India was partitioned in 1947, and much of my family moved to Pakistan, make finding information about my uncle and his unit more difficult.
Soon enough, the last WWII veterans will be dead. If you know anybody that was alive at the time, take a moment to talk to them about it. I wish I had been able to meet my great uncle. My grandmother's memories of him were just from her childhood, so I have never been able to hear the details of his experiences in Burma. That combined with the fact that India was partitioned in 1947, and much of my family moved to Pakistan, make finding information about my uncle and his unit more difficult.
Melting Pot
Sick & Twisted
