adxict.com

I used to play this dice game called 10,000 🎲

Humble Spider — Mon, 30 Mar 2026 19:15:36 +0000

We’d play it at my house—the one my brother and I had to ourselves. My friends from high school would come back into town for the holidays, staying at their parents’ places, and then drift over to mine like it was some kind of escape hatch. We’d sit around a table, pass a bong packed with my homegrown weed, and roll dice for hours.

That’s where I started noticing something strange.

Through the fog of being stoned, I remember rolling triple 5s—three dice showing 5, worth 500 points—and just… freezing. I could feel the strategy gears in my head try to turn and then completely jam.

What should I do?

It felt like there was no clear choice.

I could take the 500 points. It’s not bad. It moves you forward. Or I could roll again with the remaining dice and try for more—but risk losing everything I had just earned.

And I did both. Sometimes I’d play it safe and take the points. Other times I’d go for it… and lose the whole turn. I remember that feeling too—the quick drop in your stomach when the dice hit and nothing scores. So much for that turn.

But triple 5s always felt different.

It wasn’t like rolling something obviously bad, or obviously great. It sat right in the middle. Just enough to take. Just risky enough to question. Every time I saw it, I hesitated. Every time, it felt like a trap.

I didn’t realize it then, but I was living my life the exact same way.

I was smoking weed every day. As much as I wanted. And honestly, it was great. It made everything easier, softer, more interesting. Days flowed into each other in a way that felt… manageable.

It was a solid 500 points.

Not amazing. Not terrible. Just enough.

But underneath that, there was this other feeling. Like I was quietly limiting myself. Like anything more ambitious—school, growth, really showing up for my life—was just slightly out of reach. Not impossible, just… harder than it should be.

And that’s what made it so difficult to change.

Because nothing was wrong.

Taking 500 points isn’t a mistake. You can win the game that way. Slowly, steadily, stacking decent turns. And I told myself that all the time. This is fine. I’m fine. I don’t need to push it.

But it started to feel like a loop. The same turn, over and over again. The same 500 points.

And eventually I had to ask myself something I couldn’t ignore:

How do I actually feel about taking 500 points?

So I tried to stop.

And it was awful.

It felt like I stopped taking 500 points and immediately started scoring 0. I’d try to push through, to “roll again,” and I’d lose the turn completely. I was emotional, unstable, restless. I needed everything—video games, shows, food, my partner, sleep, space—just to not smoke.

It didn’t feel like growth. It felt like failure.

Like I had given up something that worked just to be worse.

So I went back. Of course I did. Back to 500 points. Back to something that felt stable, predictable, safe.

But the idea didn’t leave me.

That feeling—that triple 5s feeling—kept coming back. That sense that I was stuck in this middle space. Not failing, but not really living the way I wanted to either.

It took me almost two years to actually commit.

Eventually I joined Marijuana Anonymous. I just knew I couldn’t keep playing the same turn forever.

And then I made it 90 days sober.

That felt like scoring 1,000 points. Like finally getting on the board.

And here’s the thing I didn’t understand before:

Of course all those 500s would have added up to more over that same time period. That’s the safe way to play.

But I didn’t want to just accumulate points.

I wanted to change the way I was playing the game.

After that, life didn’t suddenly become perfect.

I still had turns where I scored 0. Still do.

But I also started having turns where I scored way more than I ever used to—moments where I showed up for my education, actually grew as a person, built deeper relationships, got to know myself in ways I never had before.

Those weren’t 500-point moments.

Those were the result of being willing to risk losing the turn.

I don’t think the lesson is that “mediocrity is bad.”

It’s more specific than that.

It’s about that exact feeling—the one you get when something is good enough to stay, but not good enough to feel proud of. That middle space where leaving feels dramatic, but staying feels quietly disappointing.

The curse of the triple 5s isn’t that it’s a bad roll.

It’s that it makes you hesitate.

It makes you question whether you should risk anything at all.

For a long time, I kept taking the 500.

Now, I’m just trying to play differently.

Even if that means sometimes I roll… and lose everything.

A Year-Long Fast from Media

True North — Sun, 14 Dec 2025 05:01:24 +0000

What Is a Media Fast?
I have just completed a one-year fast from all unnecessary media. Yes, really! So what exactly does that mean “to fast from all unnecessary media”? Well, you can probably guess that it means no movies or video games. And you would be right. But media encompasses so much more than that. In Media Addicts Anonymous (MAA), their literature states: “We support all forms of media sobriety, including abstinence from electronic media, film, radio, newspapers, magazines, books, and music.” My own personal definition of media is anything that numbs you out to help you escape from your daily life and inner thoughts. So I have just spent the last 365 days not only abstaining from TV and movies and videos on YouTube (AND Instagram, AND Facebook), but I also have not listened to music, audiobooks, podcasts, or kept up with the news. I also stopped doing word puzzles on my phone (yes, that includes Wordle) and stopped reading all fiction books. I also limited my other computer and phone use to “necessary” media for work, health, and family. Some days, that often limited me to email, texts, and phone calls. So why would I make this drastic move, and what’s the point of doing a media fast? Well it started when I came to the realization that I was a media addict. And I did a media fast to recover my sanity and to save my soul!

My Media Story
My actual media story started many years ago with my use of TV, movies, and audiobooks for escapist pleasure. Nothing that unusual in this media-obsessed world. I honestly thought nothing about listening to my favorite Jane Austen books over and over again. Or watching movies all day on a Saturday afternoon. Or binge-watching all nine seasons of The Office because, you know, “everyone” does that. However, two years ago something switched in my brain. I started listening to audiobooks and podcasts nearly round the clock — I had my earbuds in from the moment I woke up until I finally went to sleep late at night. On top of that, YouTube and Facebook videos hooked me in. Hour after hour, I kept watching — both mesmerized and disgusted at the same time. I didn’t enjoy these inane useless videos, but I kept craving more. I would also watch these videos instead of doing my work. Or sometimes I would do my work while watching YouTube on my phone next to my computer. One Sunday, I didn’t even get out of bed — I lay there for 13 hours straight watching videos on my phone. This was a new low for me. I told myself it was time to quit, and at that same moment, I realized I no longer could.

How I Started My Fast
I was already a member of another 12-step program (Al-Anon) and understood how 12-step programs function and how to work the steps. However, it took me months before I would step into the rooms of MAA. I could admit that my phone was becoming a bit of a problem, but I wasn’t that bad. Everyone is on their phones nowadays, right? It took me several more months to understand the addictive nature of media and to admit I could not handle this on my own. I remember being so incredibly nervous going to my first MAA meeting online. What would these people talk about? Do I really NEED to say I’m an addict? Despite all of my misgivings, I immediately felt at home. I could relate to every single person’s share in such a personal way. I understood the cravings they described and the self-loathing for wasting so many years of their life on stupid media. I identified with the late night binges and the regret in the morning. And I completely related to that lack of time they all talked about. I never had enough time — I was late for everything. I knew I was in the right place.

The meeting I attended turned out to be a nightly meeting. One of the MAA tools we read that night focused on fasting from unnecessary media as one of the keys to recovery: 

Fasting is an essential tool if someone sincerely desires relief from media addiction. It is the tourniquet we use to stop the bleeding. We strongly advocate fasting from unnecessary media long enough to break the compulsive cycle. By fasting from all media except what is necessary for work, school, or family needs, we see our media addiction with greater clarity, detoxify our minds and bodies from the overuse of media, and begin to connect to ourselves and others in deeper and healthier ways.
From the Tools of Action for Media Addicts

So that first night, I told my new group that I would turn off my phone after the meeting and not look at it until the morning. I honestly didn’t know if I could do it, but I would try. And the next morning, I felt so proud of myself for that ounce of sanity I decided to stay off media for the rest of that day. I remember thinking to myself that if I could stay off media for 24 hours, I could report my progress to my new MAA friends that night. And I did it! They all cheered for me, and I felt hope. I then did a 2nd and a 3rd day. Then a whole week. I’d like to say that I stopped media then and there, but I had some starts and stops that first month. Nevertheless, on November 27th, 2024, I began what would eventually become a one-year long media fast.

At first, it was so difficult to stay off media. My days felt endlessly long. Suddenly, instead of watching my normal 8 hours of YouTube and Netflix, I now had 8 hours to fill. But with what? I started focusing more on my job and realized that I could keep up with the work better if I did my work during the day instead of cramming it in at the last minute late at night. I made friends in the program and we talked daily, helping each other to stay sober. I started meditating and journaling — something I had always wanted to do but never had the time for. I also started turning off my phone at night and giving myself a bedtime. This was something new for me. I never set an actual bedtime before! And now, here I was going to sleep before 10PM and waking at 6AM Who is this person?!

Working the Steps
After three months of fasting, I realized I needed to also work the steps. MAA offers an intensive three-month program called Back to Basics where you fast from media and work the steps with other media addicts. I had heard that Back to Basics was a lot of work, so it was with much hesitation and hand-wringing that I finally decided to join the next group. Because I was already fasting, I mostly had to just focus on doing the step work. I really didn’t have high expectations since I had done the steps before, but because my brain was now clear, the step work had more meaning to me than ever before. I saw how my media use was connected to my unhappiness at my job. I saw how stuck I felt in my life. My media wasn’t the problem — it was just a symptom. The real problem was a feeling of deep despair and loneliness. I was also filled with constant terror about my future. The media numbed my feelings so I didn’t have to continually think about my problems. Media was protecting me from myself — that is until it didn’t work anymore.

During my Back to Basics I wrote out a 10-page 4th step digging through every last resentment and fear. I wrote down even the smallest misgivings including that time, 10 years ago, when my friend planted a tree for me in the wrong spot. I vigorously wrote out my 8th step amends list and by the time I was done with Back to Basics, I had made every amend on my 9th step. I also found a Higher Power of my understanding. Like really! A loving Higher Power which I could connect with on a daily basis. For me, this was a completely new understanding of the 12 Steps. And I realized that when I had done the steps before in my other program, I had still been using media. I always intended to journal and do a 10th step at night, but I never made the time for it. This time was different. Without the distraction of media, I could focus all of my energy on my recovery work. And little by little my life started changing. And small miracles started happening.

Finding Miracles Everywhere
My first miracle was that my job became tolerable and even interesting at times. I took more time to focus on the work and even enjoyed some parts of it. And when I got the work done in a timely manner, I had guilt-free weekends where I could plan hikes or outings with friends. I still didn’t like the job, but I could make it work for a while. My second miracle was an unexpected trip to Asia. My niece needed someone to accompany her for a medical procedure. I felt so grateful both for a trip abroad and to be of service to my niece. However, I was nervous about a 20-hour plane ride with no media and with everyone else on the plane watching a movie. I told my niece this, and she said, “Well, I’ll just fast from media, too!” And she did. The trip was amazing, and my niece and I traveled well together talking and playing cards at night. We never turned on a TV the entire trip. My third miracle came when I found out I was eligible to get dual citizenship in another country. This realization suddenly opened up my eyes to new possibilities — I could work, live, and maybe retire overseas. This was the dream that I hadn’t allowed myself to say out loud — I want to live overseas! Perhaps this dream could be my way out from feeling stuck at this job and this life.

Living a Life Without Media
So that’s what I have been doing the rest of my year without media. My free time has been filled with research about my ancestors and applying for citizenship. I’ve also bought a half dozen books on living abroad, retirement planning, and figuring out how to get rid of all the stuff in my house. I’ve joined a gym and go there most mornings — at 6AM. (Jeez, who is this person?!) I regularly attend MAA and Al-Anon meetings, and I do service for both groups. I meditate and journal and listen for guidance from my Higher Power. My life is full. I feel a renewed sense of purpose. Nowadays, I don’t even know how I would fit in an hour of TV let alone the 8 hours I had become so accustomed to. And the truth is, I really don’t want to.

So how did I stay off media for so long? And why do I continue to abstain from nearly all media? The honest truth is that I am terrified of going back to that old life of feeling stuck and numb. I worry that if I start watching a TV show or a YouTube video I will get sucked back in. At my MAA meetings, I hear other people talk about relapsing, and I am eternally grateful that I am still media sober today. But my biggest fear is if I relapse, I may not find the power to get out a second time. My life is not perfect now. My job, while more bearable, is still exhausting and takes a toll on me physically and mentally. I have lost friendships this year, perhaps stemming from my media addiction. And the fast itself is difficult at times. I find it so hard to not watch the 21 TV screens at my gym. (Yes, 21!) And, of course, I still struggle to get my work done and find myself procrastinating at times. But it is also a beautiful life filled with new friends and new dreams. I don’t yet know my future plans. New job? Travel? Retirement? My Higher Power hasn’t given me the whole game plan yet, but She says I’m on the right path. I think I’ll keep listening.

Dissociation Association

milk_man — Sun, 07 Dec 2025 04:40:45 +0000

I was at my rock climbing gym last night, and a small popup makers market was happening. One of the vendors was selling sweatshirts branded "Dissociation Association: Physically here, mentally not". The design reminded me deeply of my experiences: of active addiction, of the nature of my ongoing recovery, and of evolving understanding of what it can mean to be me.

I've been sober for almost 4 years, long enough to start really getting that I have many character qualities and ways of being that I can't blame on being transient effects of being high or coming down from being high constantly for ~12 years. They are patterns that continue to recur.

One of those patterns is a tendency towards and skill for dissociating. I loved getting high not because it allowed me to dissociate, but because it made the dissociating that I was already doing feel great, completely natural, lacking effort, to a degree where I could taste, ephemerally, but distinctly, the feeling of being whole.

Before discovering weed, my behavior in most social circumstances could be a beat or two slow, as I consciously tried to calculate what to say. I was known for speaking in a monotone, because there may not have been much of me in what I was saying. I recall it all feeling exhausting, and that I believed that the "real me" was something that only existed as inner dialogue and inner imagination, and that what I revealed externally was just a mask. I remember that keeping that mask on constantly as tiring.

Weed, and the world of sensation and altered perception that it gave me, provided relief from that work, or it made the work feel lighter, or it helped me to see that the work did not need to be constantly and compulsively taken on. And it worked, until I became unable to extricate myself from the privately defined world that cannabis use helped me to create.

I'll save a story of my addiction and entrance into recovery for another post. Right now, I want to examine how my nature as an addict shows up a few years into recovery.

My active addiction and recovery neither made a desire or reflex to dissociate from the world around me. They have given me color into its nature and into the less obvious ways I try to satiate urges to not be fully present.

I've been sober long enough to no longer remember the exact feeling of being high to truly crave it. But I still find myself symbolically craving it, a way to escape from my present circumstances, to tune my present way of being to feeling more agreeable without materially changing the objective reality surrounding me.

Over time, I have become better at recognizing these moments for what they are when they occur. At my best, I appreciate those moments, and am able to sit with the underlying feelings of discomfort, and use them as vehicles to look a bit more underneath my surface to try and see what really might be generating them.

When I'm not my best, I hope at least to have enough grace to be gentle with my imperfections, and not be harsh with myself if I indulge in something relaxing or distracting.

adxict.com - What it is, Why it exists, and How to use it 🤗

Gary the Mascot — Mon, 06 Oct 2025 20:03:30 +0000

Welcome 👋

You might be asking yourself questions like:

What is this platform?
Why was it created?
How do I use it?

This post will cover all of that and more.

What is it

adxict.com is built on Forem, the open source software designed for communities that want to write, share, and discuss content in a central place: it works a lot like Medium or Reddit.

It allows you to:

Publish and share posts
Engage through comments and threaded discussions
Get built-in SEO so your writing is discoverable
Use moderation and community tools
Cross-post content from your personal blog or other platforms
And much more!

Why it exists

Recovery means different things to different people — from substances and behaviors to thoughts, screens, and everything in between. adxict.com is meant to be a space where all of that can coexist — a bridge between different rooms, different voices, and different kinds of healing — so the work can continue to grow and be seen.

Here’s what you’ll find:

A hub for writing, discussion, and community
A platform that respects anonymity while encouraging connection
Support for podcasts, and shared resources

How to use it

Think of this site as your personal recovery blog + community forum combined. Whether you're journaling your journey, sharing tools that helped you, or simply looking to connect with others on a similar path.

Here’s how you can get started:

Create an account → Sign up with email, Google, or other login methods.
Write a post → Share your story, insights, or resources.
Cross-post → If you’ve already written on Medium or a blog, you can copy it here and set a canonical URL so search engines know the original source.
Engage → Comment, discuss, and connect with others in threads.

What’s next?

This is a working draft of a community. Things may feel quiet at first, but each story, post, or podcast adds to the foundation.

If you find value in this platform, consider:

Posting your own writing
Commenting and connecting with others
Suggesting improvements (features, categories, norms)

Oh — and if you’re counting days, months, or years in recovery, you can get a chip 🥳

🪞🧠🩹✍️🔁

See you in the comments. ✨

How Many Anonymous Recovery Groups Are There 🧐

Humble Spider — Sat, 04 Oct 2025 02:05:25 +0000

What’s an “Anonymous” group?

Peer-run recovery fellowships (like AA, NA, OA, etc.) where people meet to share experience and support—no therapists, no dues (self-supporting), and privacy by design. Most follow 12-step-style meetings, are decentralized (groups set the tone), and welcome anyone who wants help.

Substance-Focused Anonymous Groups (15)

Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) – The original 12-step fellowship (founded 1935) helping alcoholics stop drinking.
Narcotics Anonymous (NA) – Fellowship for drug addiction in all forms (founded 1953).
Cocaine Anonymous (CA) – Focused on recovery from cocaine and other stimulant addiction.
Heroin Anonymous (HA) – Recovery from heroin and other opioids.
Crystal Meth Anonymous (CMA) – For people addicted to crystal methamphetamine.
Marijuana Anonymous (MA) – Fellowship for those addicted to cannabis.
Nicotine Anonymous (NicA) – For quitting smoking, vaping, and nicotine in all forms.
Pills Anonymous (PA) – Recovery from prescription pill addiction.
Chemically Dependent Anonymous (CDA) – For anyone seeking freedom from any drug or alcohol addiction.
Dual Recovery Anonymous (DRA) – For individuals with both addiction and mental health disorders.
Dual Diagnosis Anonymous (DDA) – Recovery for co-occurring substance abuse and psychiatric illness.
Recoveries Anonymous (RA) – Open to anyone with any addictive or self-destructive behavior.
All Addictions Anonymous (AAA) – Generic 12-step fellowship addressing any addictive substance or behavior.
Primary Purpose Big Book Study (PPG) – Big Book–focused 12-step recovery meetings emphasizing the “primary purpose” of carrying the message.
Kratom Meetings - Offers a Kratom 12 Step Group meeting.
Caffeine Addicts Anonymous (CAFAA) – 12-step fellowship to stop caffeine (coffee, tea, energy drinks, etc.).

Behavioral Addictions (15)

Gamblers Anonymous (GA) – Recovery from compulsive gambling.
Bettors Anonymous - A fellowship to recover from a gambling problem.
Debtors Anonymous (DA) – Fellowship for compulsive debting and money dysfunction.
Underearners Anonymous (UA) – For chronic underearning or financial self-sabotage.
Workaholics Anonymous (WA) – Recovery from compulsive overworking or work avoidance.
Clutterers Anonymous (CLA) – Fellowship for compulsive hoarding and clutter.
Procrastinators Anonymous (PA) – Support for overcoming chronic procrastination.
Rageaholics Anonymous (RA) – Recovery from destructive anger and rage.
Internet and Technology Addicts Anonymous (ITAA) – Recovery from internet, smartphone, and tech addiction.
Gaming Addicts Anonymous (GAA) – Fellowship for compulsive video gaming.
Online Gamers Anonymous (OLGA) – For compulsive online gaming addiction.
Media Addicts Anonymous (MAA) – Recovery from compulsive use of all forms of media.
Spenders Anonymous – Niche group for overspending.
Artists Recovering through the Twelve Steps (ARTS Anonymous) – For creative individuals blocked by fear, procrastination, or perfectionism.
Cleptomaniacs And Shoplifters Anonymous (C.A.S.A.) – 12-step support for compulsive theft/shoplifting.
Liars Anonymous – Fellowship for compulsive dishonesty; emphasizes rigorous honesty.

Sex, Love, and Relationship Groups (10)

Sexaholics Anonymous (SA) – Early fellowship for sexual addiction recovery.
Sex Addicts Anonymous (SAA) – Fellowship for compulsive sexual behaviors.
Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous (SLAA) – For destructive relationships, romance obsession, and sexual compulsion.
Love Addicts Anonymous (LAA) – Recovery from addiction to toxic or dependent relationships.
Sexual Compulsives Anonymous (SCA) – For compulsive sexual behavior, with roots in LGBT communities.
Sexual Recovery Anonymous (SRA) – Fellowship for sexual addiction recovery.
Porn Addicts Anonymous (PAA) – Recovery from pornography addiction.
Sex and Porn Addicts Anonymous (SPAA) – For both sex and porn addiction.
Codependents Anonymous (CoDA) – Fellowship for those recovering from codependency.
Adult Children of Alcoholics (ACA/ACoA) – Recovery for those raised in alcoholic or dysfunctional families.
Recovering Couples Anonymous (RCA) – A program for couples working recovery together.

Food and Eating Groups (7)

Overeaters Anonymous (OA) – Recovery from compulsive eating and food obsession.
Food Addicts Anonymous (FAA) – Recovery from food addiction, often sugar/flour focused.
Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) – Fellowship addressing food addiction with structured abstinence.
Eating Disorders Anonymous (EDA) – Recovery from any eating disorder.
Anorexics and Bulimics Anonymous (ABA) – Fellowship for anorexia and bulimia recovery.
Compulsive Eaters Anonymous – H.O.W. – Structured recovery for compulsive eaters using the HOW method.
GreySheeters Anonymous (GSA) – 12-step fellowship using the “Grey Sheet” food plan.

Emotional and Mental Health Groups (11)

Emotions Anonymous (EA) – Fellowship for mental and emotional illness recovery.
Depressed Anonymous – Recovery for people suffering from depression.
Obsessive–Compulsive Anonymous (OCA) – Recovery from OCD through the 12 steps.
Suicide Anonymous (SA) – Fellowship for those with suicidal ideation or history of attempts.
Racists Anonymous – Treats racism as an addictive behavior. (Niche group, limited spread, often church-based.)
Survivors of Incest Anonymous (SIA) – Recovery for adults who suffered childhood sexual abuse.
Sexual Assault Survivors Anonymous (SASA) – Recovery for survivors of sexual assault.
Self-Injury Recovery Anonymous (SIRA) – 12-step peer support for those who self-injure and want to stop.
Emotional Health Anonymous - Fellowship for improving emotional health and stability.
Chronic Pain Anonymous - 12-step support for people living with chronic pain and related challenges.

Crime and Abuse-Related Groups (3)

Gangsters Anonymous – Small groups for former gang members seeking recovery.
Parents Anonymous – Support for parents seeking to stop abusive behavior.
Violence Anonymous – A 12-step program for people recovering from violent behavior.

Family and Loved Ones Support Groups (12)

Al-Anon Family Groups – Support for family and friends of alcoholics.
Alateen – A branch of Al-Anon for teenagers affected by alcoholism in the family.
Nar-Anon Family Groups – Support for families and friends of drug addicts.
Families Anonymous (FA) – Fellowship for relatives and friends of anyone with an addiction.
Gam-Anon – Support group for families of compulsive gamblers.
Gamer-Anon - Support for family and friends affected by someone’s compulsive gaming.
S-Anon International Family Groups – Support for partners and relatives of sex addicts.
Mar-Anon Family Groups – Support for families and friends of marijuana addicts.
Infidelity Survivors Anonymous (ISA) – 12-step recovery for spouses/partners healing from betrayal/affairs.

In total, this list includes 83 Anonymous groups!

If I missed any let me know 🤓

Recovery Chips 🎉

Gary the Mascot — Fri, 03 Oct 2025 21:58:43 +0000

Flex your Freedom:

You’ve done the work. You're still doing it. You didn’t get a certificate. No one mailed you a trophy.

Cool — we’ve got chips instead. Days, months, years — it all counts.

🏅 Want your chip? Here’s how:

Send an email to: chips@adxict.com

OR

Make a post with the #recoverychip tag that includes:

Your adxict.com username
Your top chip statement (like “MARIJUANA ADXICT” or “ALCOHOL FREE”) adxict.com is not affiliated with any anonymous recovery program, so no program names can appear on the chip.
Your time in recovery (like “90 days” or “2 years”)
An optional bottom phrase (like “One day at a time” or something only your weird sober brain would say)
Short description (<150 characters) shown when the badge is clicked on your profile. (like "Now I experience freedom in the absence of my alcoholic media.")

We’ll add a chip to your profile like a little badge of survival. 🎂

Examples:

Why this matters:

Everyone’s got their own version of recovery.

This just makes it easier to see who’s walking what path — and how long they’ve been walking it.

Got design ideas? Want to improve how this works? Join the Telegram group. Bring your taste and your takes.

90 Days Sober — And It Only Took Me 21 Months

Humble Spider — Mon, 29 Sep 2025 00:50:28 +0000

It took me 21 months, a ritualistic bonfire, a pound of weed, the constant support of my partner, and one very chill doctor to finally make it 90 days sober. This is not advice. This is a warning and a confession — and somehow, also a success story.

Month 0: Professional Stoner 💨🎮🍕

I thought my life looked decent on paper. I had a house, a lover, and just enough stability to pass for an adult. Then COVID hit. My job demoted me, so I quit in a blaze of indignation and promptly applied for unemployment and food stamps.

What that actually meant was I had just engineered the perfect setup to smoke weed all day without consequences*.

And I did. Morning to night. I even grew my own supply in the garage, like some proud suburban farmer. I told myself I was finally going to pursue my dream of becoming some sort of programming expert and went back to college online for computer science. But instead of coding, I was playing video games and watching my favorite shows while forgetting what snack I’d just eaten.

Attempt #1: Padlock Strategy 🔒 (Days 1–30)

Eventually, the illusion cracked. My throat constantly hurt, and I was doing the minimum at school. So, I made a dramatic declaration:

“I will quit weed for 90 days!”

My genius solution? Lock the weed in a bag, padlock the zippers, and hand the key to my loving warden. Did I ask if she also wanted to quit? Nope. I just decided she was now in charge of my weed consumption. I stashed the bag high up in the garage — a place only I could reach. Brilliant.

Naturally, I began nagging her for the key. At first, I was subtle:

“Just a little bit for tonight?” 🌙

She said no. Strong boundaries. I respected it for a few days. Then the requests turned into more than just nagging... Eventually, she had enough:

“Here. Take the key. Do whatever you want.”

And so I did.

Attempt #1 limped to 30 days before I caved. Then I went right back to smoking heavily, and months slid by in a blur of fog, snacks, and shame.

The Butter Phase 🧈😬 (Rock Bottom Between Attempts)

Since smoking shredded my throat, I thought edibles would be healthier. And when I say edibles, I mean eating straight weed butter.

I’d cooked up a batch to make brownies, but that got old fast. So, I just ate the butter. Not on toast. Not in cookies. Just... spoonfuls of green sludge.

It tasted like a crime against cows. But I stayed high, and that was the goal.

Attempt #2: The 60-Day Tease 🎉➡️🔥 (Month ~10)

Months after crashing out of attempt one, I dusted myself off and declared, once again:

“This time, 90 days. Forsure.”

The reasoning was simple: my throat needed healing, my brain needed clearing, and surely three months would reset everything.

But I’d learned from my padlock fiasco. My partner didn’t need to be my warden — she needed to be spared from my nonsense. So instead of handing her the keys, I decided the best option was destruction.

One night (without her blessing) I built a fire and dragged everything outside: jars of edibles, cartridges, and close to a pound of weed from my garage grow. My partner was annoyed, she didn’t want to quit, and weed isn’t cheap!

“Fine. Take what you want as your personal stash, I’ll burn the rest.”

She salvaged a little. The rest went into the fire.

Of course, when she lit up her personal stash that same night I, of course, wanted in. Over the next week, I smoked through every last bit of what she had saved. 🫥

But then, technically, there was no weed left in the house. Which meant I could finally get sober. And, again, against her will but with her supportive participation, my partner was dragged back onto the sober train with me.

We made it two full months. Wow! 60 days was a new lifetime record for me! I must celebrate!

It also just so happened to land on New Year’s Eve. A few joints just for tonight couldn’t hurt, right?

Except one night became two, then a week, then full relapse. My brain flipped back into loophole mode:

“Already smoked today, might as well keep going.”
“I’ll quit next week.”
“This doesn’t really count, right?”

And just like that, 60 days went up in smoke.

The Doctor Visit 🩺😅 (Month ~16)

By now my body was waving white flags 🏳️. I kept getting shortness of breath at random times, so I went to a clinic convinced COVID had wrecked me. They ran some tests. Everything came back fine.

Half-joking, I asked:

“Could it be the five joints I smoke every day?”

The doctor didn’t laugh. I did. But something clicked.

Weed wasn’t my escape anymore. It wasn’t creative fuel. It was just a leash, dragging me into anxiety, exhaustion, and isolation.

Attempt #3: Finally, Help 🙏💪 (Months 19–21)

That’s when some online research led me to find Marijuana Anonymous. I told myself:

“If I relapse again, I’m going.”

Spoiler: I relapsed again.

So I went. Nervous 😬. Skeptical 🤔. Desperate 😩.

They recommended I do 90 meetings in 90 days. It sounded cliché, but I committed. I stopped dragging my partner into my chaos and focused on me.

This time, it stuck. 30 days. Then 60. Then — finally — 90 ✅.

Why 90 Days Matters 📈🧠 (According to Science, Not Just Me)

Brain function: It takes about 90 days for your brain to stabilize. You start thinking clearly again. Your mood improves. Cravings decrease.
Body healing: Sleep improves. Appetite normalizes. Your gut stops hating you. Your throat thanks you. Even your vision might get sharper.
Routine returns: Sobriety stops feeling like a battle and starts becoming your baseline.

“It can take up to 90 days for the brain to begin significant recovery from substance use.”

— High Focus Centers

The Truth ✨🚶‍♂️

I didn’t get here cleanly. I failed constantly. I wasted time, money, and emotional energy. I tried dumb fixes, dragged people down, and relapsed a few times.

But I kept showing up. Eventually, that was enough.

If you’re stuck in the cycle, I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I’m saying it’s possible. And if it takes you 21 months too, at least you’ll have one hell of a story.

Just… skip the butter 🧈❌.

Welcome Thread - v0

Gary the Mascot — Sat, 30 Aug 2025 23:09:37 +0000

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