ddandurand
- 98
- 33
A few years ago, I found myself in an extremely dark place mentally. My relationship was crumbling, and I was losing everything for the third time in just a few years. In the midst of this, my mother was silently battling cancer, hiding it from us for god only knows how long. Anxiety consumed me, I attempted to just hide from the world or simply sleep my life away. The complexity of being a father was heightened by a pervasive sense of failure. Even now, I hope my son can forgive the man I was during that time, devoid of the energy or motivation to be the parent he deserved.
Reflecting on the multitude of challenges in my life, it's no wonder a scene of dread overshadowed every engagement. I distracted myself by retreating into my phone, endlessly searching for answers to fix my tumultuous life. For nearly a decade, my story was a cycle of finding a relationship, ruining it, and moving on to the next. As I grow older I’m learning this was a learned behavior as my childhood was filled with fighting and arguing behind closed doors. Seemingly normal to me at the time.
Around Christmas of 2021, I moved back home with my father — the third time I've had to do so as an adult only solidifying how much of a failure I was to myself. Shortly after, my mother passed away on Thanksgiving. Strangely, I felt nothing; it was as if my body had entered survival mode, protecting me from emotions, urging me to go through the motions to survive. Later, I discovered that this emotional numbness was likely a side effect of the antidepressants I was on. After ceasing their use for about six months, my emotions returned in full force.
Around this time, I turned to cannabis regularly to help me feel something. When my other medication finally left my system, cannabis revealed the demons I had been running from. It was sometimes panic-inducing and exacerbated my anxiety, but, strangely, it helped by forcing me to confront the issues I had become skilled at ignoring. Smoking weed became a roller coaster of emotions, and as uncomfortable as it was, it taught me to address my concerns rather than hide them, recognizing that they don't just fade away. Our past trauma resides within us, and we become adept at disregarding it. While I no longer consume cannabis, living in a state where it legally allowed me to discover my real medicine — gardening. While it may sound a bit dramatic, cannabis saved my life and gave me something to focus on.
Now that we've navigated the dramatic aspects of my journey, let's shift gears to my venture into what we all love — growing a little bud. Starting out, I made every conceivable mistake, and it's a wonder I managed to complete my first harvest. I ticked off every item on the list of beginner errors — over watering, over feeding, over training — essentially trying to rush the entire process. I have hurt more plants by over loving them than I ever have by just letting them do their thing. Even now, I approach my indoor garden a bit differently than most, opting for a more natural perspective.
I constantly ask myself, "How is this done in nature?" For me, if one of my plants doesn't thrive in my garden, it's a sign that it's not meant to be there. Sometimes, certain strains may not align with your cultivation style or you might not be ready for them. It's all part of the learning process in this green journey of ours.
I always tell everyone that if I do something right the first time, then I didn’t learn anything. Dive in, make mistakes, stress the plants, and figure out what works and what doesn't. While I understand that many growers can't afford to experiment, relying on their harvest for medicine, I'm in a unique position as I no longer use what I produce.
Even through this grow journal, my goal is to learn and enjoy the gardening process. I also hope to help someone else along the way as they read about my failures and successes in the garden. But, most of all, I just want to have fun with it. I believe cannabis is sometimes taken too seriously, and many people are afraid to make mistakes. At least this was true for me. Go get in the garden and fuck some things up. Let me start us out. "Hi, my name's Devin, and I'm kind of a shitty grower, but I love it."
Reflecting on the multitude of challenges in my life, it's no wonder a scene of dread overshadowed every engagement. I distracted myself by retreating into my phone, endlessly searching for answers to fix my tumultuous life. For nearly a decade, my story was a cycle of finding a relationship, ruining it, and moving on to the next. As I grow older I’m learning this was a learned behavior as my childhood was filled with fighting and arguing behind closed doors. Seemingly normal to me at the time.
Around Christmas of 2021, I moved back home with my father — the third time I've had to do so as an adult only solidifying how much of a failure I was to myself. Shortly after, my mother passed away on Thanksgiving. Strangely, I felt nothing; it was as if my body had entered survival mode, protecting me from emotions, urging me to go through the motions to survive. Later, I discovered that this emotional numbness was likely a side effect of the antidepressants I was on. After ceasing their use for about six months, my emotions returned in full force.
Around this time, I turned to cannabis regularly to help me feel something. When my other medication finally left my system, cannabis revealed the demons I had been running from. It was sometimes panic-inducing and exacerbated my anxiety, but, strangely, it helped by forcing me to confront the issues I had become skilled at ignoring. Smoking weed became a roller coaster of emotions, and as uncomfortable as it was, it taught me to address my concerns rather than hide them, recognizing that they don't just fade away. Our past trauma resides within us, and we become adept at disregarding it. While I no longer consume cannabis, living in a state where it legally allowed me to discover my real medicine — gardening. While it may sound a bit dramatic, cannabis saved my life and gave me something to focus on.
Now that we've navigated the dramatic aspects of my journey, let's shift gears to my venture into what we all love — growing a little bud. Starting out, I made every conceivable mistake, and it's a wonder I managed to complete my first harvest. I ticked off every item on the list of beginner errors — over watering, over feeding, over training — essentially trying to rush the entire process. I have hurt more plants by over loving them than I ever have by just letting them do their thing. Even now, I approach my indoor garden a bit differently than most, opting for a more natural perspective.
I constantly ask myself, "How is this done in nature?" For me, if one of my plants doesn't thrive in my garden, it's a sign that it's not meant to be there. Sometimes, certain strains may not align with your cultivation style or you might not be ready for them. It's all part of the learning process in this green journey of ours.
I always tell everyone that if I do something right the first time, then I didn’t learn anything. Dive in, make mistakes, stress the plants, and figure out what works and what doesn't. While I understand that many growers can't afford to experiment, relying on their harvest for medicine, I'm in a unique position as I no longer use what I produce.
Even through this grow journal, my goal is to learn and enjoy the gardening process. I also hope to help someone else along the way as they read about my failures and successes in the garden. But, most of all, I just want to have fun with it. I believe cannabis is sometimes taken too seriously, and many people are afraid to make mistakes. At least this was true for me. Go get in the garden and fuck some things up. Let me start us out. "Hi, my name's Devin, and I'm kind of a shitty grower, but I love it."
