I accidentally processed an anxiety attack as it was starting.

This changed my life, so I’m sharing my experience.

I have no idea if this would work for anyone else on the planet, so don’t hold me to it. Just like, read and decide what’s useful and leave the rest.

Anxiety is ironically one of my longest standing relationships. It’s loyal. Always there. Never forgets to show up for the big moments. Super thoughtful. 
 
I’ve been fumbling through mental health treatment to almost no avail since I was 15.
 
Then one day, I’m triggered by an unchecked trauma from a previous relationship. I go from 1-10 instantly, I take deep breaths, and hope I make it home in time. I call Alex, let him know there’s a Volkswagen full of unhinged heading his way, and that I’m going to need to medicate this one. “Medicate” meaning a Xanax. The medicine I use when it becomes too much for me to step back from. 
 
Then for absolutely no reason at all, it hits me: Anxiety is energy. The only way to eliminate it is to use it up. Right? So okay change of plans. I decided to dive in. I finally decided to march my ass into hell instead of avoiding it any further. 
 
I packed a bowl in my garage, threw my headphones on and started running for my life. I specifically played triggering music to fully submerge myself into this painful situation. I ran as fast as I could, shut my eyes, and relived it top to bottom. 
 
Finally, I played the big one, you know “that” song. The heaviest trigger tune. Repeatedly. So many times that at some point, i grow sick of it. It doesn’t hurt anymore, infact it’s annoying…and so is this unchecked pain. I couldn’t believe that something so long ago was able to ruin my day. Only I should be able to ruin my day. And I do it a lot alright?
 
I ran until I literally bonked. Picture a Linguine noodle wearing headphones, sliding down an elliptical from Craigslist.
Super pathetic, virtually exhausted, and relieved. Breathing heavy in a ball on my garage floor, smiling, because I knew I finally had something.  
I had processed a massive piece of pain from my history, got back a hell of song, and successfully handled an anxiety attack with medical marijuana, exercise, and music. 
 
This gave me a feeling of empowerment over my own mental health. So, I got excited. What the hell else could I excavate with this?
 
Here we are, 8 ish months since I stumbled on this solution for myself. (Note: I’m still medicated and seeing a therapist, this did not replace those.) but a primary tool in my “Be a little more mentally stable” deck of cards. I have been fine-tuning this process ever since.  I’ve also realized this was an incredible way to also spark my creativity, think through a problem more clearly, blast a writers block, run off rage and frustration, etc.
 
It’s also my cardio, or whatever. 
 
So simply put: 
Marijuana + music + running = Jennie bingo 
 
Creating the space to house an elliptical because I couldn’t go to the YMCA anymore changed my life. This corner of my garage is my safe place. It’s where I run, meditate, write, dance, daydream, listen to music, and read. 
 
Unforeseen benefits to using my pent-up bullcrap anxiety as fuel:
 
  • Core strength from furiously writing and doing bong rips while running full speed.
  • Some freaking alone time
  • A designated space in my home just for me. 

I ran so hard, that I snapped a belt, causing Alex to learn how to be an exercise machine mechanic because my favorite toy was broken. (Thanks again AL)

Preconceived FAQ’s:
 

What if the kids got into the weed? It’s locked up, cool your keys. Scroll to the very bottom of this post if you need a little more proof.

What will you tell your kids? I already told them. I have a prescription for a plant that helps me to think creatively, relax, etc. I can also enjoy it like you see some adults enjoy alcohol. Then as they get older I’ll explain more. 

Do you care that they know you use marijuana? No. 

Do you use it in front of them? No, dude.

Can I come over and hide in your garage? Yes. 

Do I also hide candy behind my weed inside of my lock box? Yes. 

Do I proofread anything I write? Not really. 

Could I have made this special space look a little nicer? Yeah. 

 
But for real: if you relate, and wanna talk, reach out to me please. About anything. Getting a medical card, to hang out and discuss what’s on your mind, or to smoke weed pots and eat movie box candy. I’m here. I’ll do my best to be there for you, because of everyone that’s ever been there for me. X
 
All photos of me by Alex. <3
 

Safe and secure, so slow your rush, doll baby.