Why I stopped smoking pot

"I felt myself being loved, appreciated, and cared for by God."

By Thomas Rhodes Hundley

I Believed Marijuana Made me more intriguing, more mysterious, more substantial. Smoking the weed, I'd concluded during my high school and college days, was a vital ingredient in making me "the man." And I felt more comfortable and at ease when stoned.

At some point in the midst of this fog, I made friends with folks who were students of Christian Science. "Church?" I thought. I'd rather have been out searching for a bag of pot than sitting in a pew. It was only many months later, perhaps years even, that I got a wee little bit of understanding that I'd been putting more faith in a sometimes buzz than in myself—in the guy my family and friends loved and cared about.

"Me, out of control? That couldn't be," I probably would've said if someone had told me back then not to smoke pot. "Hey, I'm making the decision to smoke or not. It's no big deal. It's just marijuana. Everybody's doin' it. They're OK. Why shouldn't I? It's no prob."

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