Smoking marijuana? Not my child!
This is a true story about a Jamaican couple that migrated in their mid-twenties to the USA, where their three children were subsequently born. The youngest child, Destiny, is at the centre of the narrative that is being told by her mother.
For over a decade now, the family has been boxed into a topsy-turvy, ticking-time-bomb of a situation as Destiny has developed a drug-addiction problem, which has taken her through her teen years and young adulthood into some dark and dangerous places.
We ask that even as you pray for this family (whose names have been altered), you take careful note of all the methods marijuana users may employ to facilitate their addiction…
Destiny could not wait to grace this world with her presence. Her entrance was speedy and without much warning: she forced her way down the birth canal and, in less than half an hour after the first labour pain, she arrived! I felt like I was hit by a train, but I was joyful, exuberant, and blessed. My second beautiful baby girl arrived, and I fell in love as she looked at me and claimed my soul with those big, beautiful bloodshot eyes.
As she navigated infancy, toddlerhood, childhood, and adolescence, she was such a joy to be around and was an overachiever and fierce competitor. The youngest of three siblings, she was taller, stronger, and, strangely, wiser. She excelled in sports and academics and was the comedian among her peers. Her laughter was contagious and filled any room with simple magic.
The immediate and extended family adored her. She was so determined and strong-willed; defiant at times, but once rules were established and she thought we were being fair, she adjusted, and her posture quickly returned to that of her silly, witty, amazing self—our Destiny.
MULTIPLE SCHOLARSHIPS
Destiny excelled in academics and had a 3.96 GPA in high school, so getting accepted by all the colleges she applied for, though a huge and celebrated achievement, was not surprising. She chose a college in upstate New York, and, in the summer, before transitioning to campus life, we celebrated her with an amazing vacation, including a luxurious cruise.
She seemed a bit withdrawn on the trip. Her excitement was tempered, and she appeared a tad more confrontational and frighteningly depressed. Normally, Destiny and I could talk about anything, but not on this trip. I was concerned. I decided not to be pushy because I knew adolescence could be so challenging, hormonally.
She went to college for one semester, and it was like my smart, passionate, and goal-orientated daughter was swapped out in some alternate universe and emerged in a form that I did not recognize. I picked her up on campus for winter break, and she looked significantly thinner and was distant and aloof. She had a meal plan in college and money in her account and was at liberty to order food online, so I was really perplexed why she had lost so much weight.
And then the dreaded mail came. Destiny was on academic suspension. From a 3.96 GPA in high school, she had dropped to 0.75 in three months of college! She was kicked out. Disappointed, broken-hearted, I was confused. A spirited argument ensued, and I discovered that she was not attending classes and had been feeling very anxious, paranoid, and out of her element.
WERE MY PROBLEMS TO BLAME?
I immediately blamed myself for not seeing that my daughter needed help; she needed me.
She suggested therapy, and I assisted her to get a therapist that she thought would match the issues she was facing. After multiple discussions, tears, and arguments, she was eager to go to community college for a year and get back into her traditional college atmosphere and show them who she really was.
I spent some time in solitude and reflected on anything that I could have done to contribute to the obvious trauma that Destiny was experiencing. Concluding that my failing marriage and other family indiscretions could have contributed to her unstable emotional and mental state, I even thought that she may not have been mature enough to take on the independence of living on her own on campus. I started to feel less disappointed and more hopeful, thinking that with time, therapy, and prayer, my daughter would be back to baseline.
THE SLEEP-OVER
Destiny’s best friend came to see her after we rang in the new year; she slept over. With permission, I entered her bedroom; a familiar aroma of ganja hit me, and I felt faint. Immediately, I retreated to my room for nearly an hour, recalling all the signs I had missed: the mood swings, the lack of appetite, the meltdowns, the manipulation, the sudden lack of ambition, the lack of respect for boundaries.
I was not ready to face the fact that Destiny was smoking marijuana.
A meeting with her dad and sister was called, and then I decided to have a discussion with her. Destiny assured me that she only smoked the THC pen to have a little fun with friends, and she did not have a dependency issue. After I totally melted down and wept bitterly, she discarded the pen and promised she would no longer indulge in vaping THC. I was in shock because I had discussed weed-smoking with the girls at length, for we had seen, firsthand, other family members who had disintegrated into non-flattering versions of themselves after becoming dependent on marijuana. As a family, we were aware of what marijuana could do to underdeveloped grey matter.
I was a wreck! I was convinced I was the worst parent. How did I miss the signs? What had caused our daughter to try weed? Peer pressure? Childhood trauma? Was her brain altered beyond repair? Was she being honest about recreational use?
THE EXPLODING BOMB
I knew I had to carefully navigate our relationship, our interaction, our bond. I made myself available to drop her off at her therapy sessions, which many times she randomly skipped. I was worried.
And then came the bombshell that broke my heart. I was frightened out of my sleep with marijuana odour emanating through the entire house! Destiny was discovered in the bathroom heavily under the influence. She was weeping bitterly and revealed that she indulged in smoking recreationally and had numerous THC filaments and pens hidden all over the house. She admitted that the only reason she had promised to stop was because she saw how badly it impacted me.
In an almost surreal fashion, she then proceeded to totally advocate for the entire weed industry and its amazing advantages. It was immediately clear: Destiny was in major trouble, and we had a long, long road ahead…
