I didn’t hit rock bottom.

No police. No chaos. No dramatic “I’ve ruined my life” moment.

That’s the problem.

I just drifted — quietly, consistently — wasting it. One joint at a time.

From 15 to 35, I was high all day. Every day. Morning to night.

And here’s the bit most people miss…

It worked.

The perfect setup for lying to yourself

When I first started smoking weed, it felt like I’d figured life out.

Alcohol never suited me. I’d get aggressive, make bad decisions, end up in trouble — with the police, with partners, with myself.

Weed was different.

No hangovers.
No obvious signs.
No one really noticing.

I wasn’t slurring my words. I wasn’t stumbling around. I wasn’t causing scenes.

I could talk. I could show up. I could function.

That’s the story I told myself.

School? High.
Gym? High.
Sports? High.
College lectures? High.
Exams? High — and still doing well.