This article will attempt to give information about the percentage that have reported negative effects from Cannabis use.
:: BAD TRIPS:: From Erowid:
I then sat down back on my chair. I remember feeling my heart beat and
pound really fast in my chest. I thought that this was not a good sign
and maybe I had taken way too much. As soon as I started thinking that
my heart began to beat even faster. I was now sure I was heading for a
heart attack. I entered into this extremely frightening state of
depersonalization and derealization where everything in front of me
looked small and I felt very small. It felt like the room was closing
up on me. I then felt like I was expanding and was trapped in my room.
I was thinking so this is what a bad trip is like. I was convinced I
was going to die and that my parents would find me dead from an
overdose on drugs. I then began to feel guilty and depressed. I could
almost literally feel the thoughts moving through my head.
:: ANXIETY, APATHY, SPACING OUT :: From Erowid:
I gave up smoking marijuana about 6 months ago because (even after
extremely heaving pot smoking for 5 years) I began getting feelings of
disassociation and anxiety.
After this I was unable to leave the house anymore other than for work.
I can't drive anywhere anymore. I felt extremely self-conscious and
panicked in public and any kind of social situation or even just
checking the letter box. I lost interest in just about everything. I
suffered from constant anxiety and hypervigilance. I had outbursts of
anger at the slightest annoying noise (such as someone coughing).
:: HABITUAL USE:: From Erowid:
At face value, many people reading this may think that this sounds like
heaven, apart from the mental illness. Smoking some of the best pot in
the world, being able to smoke relatively freely, and living the
classic life of the bohemian who’s able to think and act as he chooses.
But there is a dark side to this colourful and euphoric land of
self-indulgence. When the come-down comes, depression hits hard and
fast, making it a short matter of time before I have to think about my
options for my next smoke. And I’m not just depressed because I’m
naturally prone to it. I’m depressed because I’m constantly unemployed,
and too stoned to go out and look for anything meaningful and
fulfilling. I’m depressed because my love-life is always secondary to
my love for Mary Jane. I’m depressed because I live in a filthy flat
which I’m too high to ever clean, to ever adequately illuminate, or to
leave for something new. I’m frozen in time. I’m a sketched-out mess;
constantly confused and unable to remember simple details and matters
relating to short term memory. What I do remember is often inaccurate
and sometimes never happened at all. I live in a dream. Social
relationships are almost impossibility, and the drug that many equate
with peace and love has brought only paranoia and selfishness into my
relationships with other regular pot smokers.
