When I was fifteen, I lost my best friend to drugs. No, she didn’t die. I meant that she got in with a bad crowd, we got into a fight, and she wouldn’t be my friend after that. She wanted to smoke weed, and I was a very active member of an anti-drug group. I tried to explain to her how drugs could totally ruin her life. I was kind of a nerd, I guess, and she felt like I was dragging her down. I had no friends for a while, none at all. All because I wanted to be healthy.
Since coming to college, I’ve relaxed a little bit more when it comes to my view on drugs. One could even call me a hypocrite for being so against it before. But there’s a difference between people who will smoke every once in a while and people who identify as “stoners.” I purely feel sorry for those people. I wonder, what are they missing in their life so that they feel the need to fill that hole with mind-altering drugs? Is life really that dull for them? Now, I don’t mean this to be condescending.
Except, I kind of do, especially if you spend a lot of money on drugs, which self-named stoners usually do. I have a tuition to pay. I will need savings in the future. Buying drugs does not make logical sense to me. I suppose that if it makes someone happy, I should take my own advice and mind my own business. But according to the National Institute on Drug Abuse, “heavy marijuana users generally report lower life satisfaction, poorer mental and physical health, relationship problems, and less academic and career success compared to their peers who came from similar backgrounds.” I sure don’t mean to sound like an elitist, but this is not the way to be successful.
Except, once again, maybe I do. I work really hard, driving myself down a path that will hopefully lead to success and doing my best to avoid things that will hinder me. I do relax sometimes, and maybe everything is okay in moderation, but gosh, if you call yourself a stoner, I have to wonder what you plan to do with your life. We’re not out in the real world yet, getting real jobs and such, but we’re creating ourselves now. Is a stoner really what you want to be? Of all the words you could choose to describe yourself, that’s what you really feel is such a part of who you are? That, to me, is sad. I am a writer, an artist, a hard-worker, a lover, a fighter, but never a stoner. I couldn’t imagine identifying with such a horrible word.