True Story: I Married a Weed Head.



By Angela Perry

Let me start by saying that I didn’t know that I was marrying a weed head. Well, I kinda did. I found out that he was a closeted daily weed smoker after we’d already been dating a year. I was already in love with him so it wasn’t a reason for me not to get married. One day, he confessed that he’d been smoking weed every day since before we met and didn’t tell me because he didn’t think that I’d be cool with it. Damn straight, an occasional smoker myself, I wouldn’t have signed up to be with a heavy smoker. My father, who I never lived with and barely had a relationship with, had substance abuse issues so men struggling with drug issues was not my thing. I even went to a narcotics anonymous meeting once with a friend years ago and they warned me of the danger of falling for a man I could save. Classic, co-dependent, child of a substance abuser shit.

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Here I am. Over 10 years into marriage with a few kids and while he’s been a great dad and husband on some levels, and the sole provider in our relationship during the times when I hadn’t yet figured out what I wanted to do, he’s not always present. He’s one of those smokers that likes to get in his head and contemplate life’s biggest questions. He also barely helps around the house, doesn’t work out, and is tanking in his career.

Another issue I have is that he’s quit weed over 100 times since we’ve been together no exaggeration. He’ll quit in the morning and by evening he’s back at it again. He’ll quit in the evening and be smoking 20 minutes after a big speech on why he stopped. The longest he’s gone is a year, which was pretty awesome in terms of time, but still, his life didn’t change that much. I was expecting the moon since he was no longer puffing his life away, but somehow he still managed to be pretty much the same person, which makes me wonder if it is the weed or the man?

Did I just marry someone who lacks motivation? It’s nuts because on one hand, he’s done some pretty amazing things with his life, and he’s changed mine in so many ways, helping me to tap into a level of creativity that I didn’t know I had, but sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Honestly, there are things that I don’t worry about, like cheating, I pretty much know where he is the majority of the time, and I trust him. It’s just I wonder what it would be like to be with a man who is disciplined, keeps his word, and is ready to grab life by the balls. Someone who is more active with me and our kids. I used to think that money was the reason that he’s never been so big on doing family activities but now I think it’s just lack of motivation. Weed can make you feel like nothing is as important as chilling. When he’s really on he starts his day smoking and ends it that way with an early evening nap. I don’t want our kids thinking that grownups need daily naps to get through the day. It’s not true because I rarely do it.

My biggest fear is that I’ll look up, 20 years from now, and we’ll be in the same spot. I can’t waste my life away. I’m not smoking right now because one, I’ve never had a daily habit (I can take weed or leave it), and two, I refuse to sit and smoke with him like it’s okay. When we got into it recently about his smoking he said, “You can’t tell me shit because you smoke too!” That was my last puff. Nope. I’m standing by the fact that this weed smoking is a dream killer. At least in this house. Because while I may not have a bad weed habit myself, when I do smoke I get fat. I eat like munchies were invented just for me and there are never enough. Plus, if I’m honest, I ain't mama of the year either. Getting my kids tucked into bed at night is the highlight of my day because right after I’m lighting up a bean.

So now there’s this divide. He’s continued to smoke while I’ve quit and that means that he’s off in the living room watching his sports while I work in the bedroom or go to bed early. I can’t be around him chatting it up and laughing like we used to because I’d be too tempted into taking a puff and thinking it’s okay. Sometimes I think about my mom and how she almost decided to do hard drugs with my father so she could be close to him. I know that feeling. You want to be with your man and on some level he loves that shit more than you so joining in is the next best thing to having him.

I struggle. Ain’t gon lie. It’s tough. But, it’s been a few weeks and I’m still not smoking and I don’t plan to go back. We’ve been arguing a lot during this time because I think I’ve been trying to force him to quit by getting mad and being disappointed when I see him puffing. I throw his own words about wanting to quit in his face, hoping that I can remind him of who he wants to be. He was that stand for me once when I’d almost given up. He stood for me. But he’s kinda chopped off my legs, and gets angry at me calling me judgmental. I just get tired of him using money we don’t have for weed. Sometimes he uses our last $20 for a bag. It stinks. I’m tired of fighting. I’m thinking, will I divorce him over this? Some days I say yes, get out, while you’re still relatively young, live the life you envision. Then other times I think of our kids and I want them to have a family. I also think that as long as I stay clean and I can keep my body healthy and in order, and I keep working on my craft, I can still have the life I want. It’s just more a focus on me instead of us. If he ever changes his tune and wants to be ambitious for his own life, great, but I’ll keep reaching for the stars on my own. That’s life anyway, isn’t it? You come here alone and that’s how you leave, right?  

Have you dated an addict?

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