A note before you read: this post discusses suicide. If that's not something you're up for today, take care of yourself and come back another time. If you or someone you know is struggling, call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, 24/7

The day after Christmas last year, I ended up in the emergency room.

It was partly due to a panic attack. But the panic was over my blood pressure.

I was experiencing stress due to a confrontation with a coworker that should’ve never happened.

Then again, maybe it should’ve. Because the experience led me to treat Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Hypertension that I’ve clearly been living with for a while but either never noticed or was just living in denial of them.

Eight months later, the coworker and I are fine now. And I was starting to feel that my health was improving, too. Until I went back to the doctor today, that is.

I quit using THC the day I left the emergency room. I started putting a greater focus on diet and exercise. After two follow-ups with my doctors, I finally decided in March to begin taking a daily dose of Amlodipine 5mg for my blood pressure and Lexapro 5mg for anxiety.

All has been well.

I see a psychiatrist every few months and a psychologist every other week. I work out every day and eat whole and healthy foods. The only thing I can think is still a problem in my life is alcohol – even though I’ve cut down drinking a lot. It’s apparently not enough for someone my age.

A doctor told me today that my Body Mass Index and history of hypertension make me a candidate for a GLP-1 drug – the same class of medication as Ozempic, prescribed here for weight management rather than diabetes.

Isn’t that the drug for obese people?

So I’m not shredded, but I do work out almost every day and have regularly exercised most of my life. I’m a 37-year-old male who is 6’0” and 230 lbs. What sucks is my weight has kinda yo-yo’d at the doctor this year:

• January 24: 212 lbs
• February 27: 218 lbs
• March 27: 216 lbs
• June 4: 220 lbs

But today, my weigh-in was 230 lbs, which clocked my BMI just over the limit of obese and enough to meet FDA guidelines for taking a GLP-1.

I don’t think the doctor was trying to scare me, though – I think she was trying to do her job and be helpful. That’s even more disheartening and upsetting for me because I've really been trying to improve my physical and mental health this year.

How far I’ve come and why this stings

Quitting THC the day I left the ER wasn’t only about my blood pressure. Weed and my mental health have been tangled up with my childhood best friend Matt since I was 15, and I don’t think I understood how much until I quit.

The first time I smoked marijuana, I was 15 and pretty much smoked it every day until quitting this year.

The first time I smoked marijuana was with a friend who took his own life less than a year later. It was my best friend Matt. He and I got busted getting stoned at his house by his dad a few months before. That wasn’t the main reason he killed himself, but his family life was absolutely part of it.

He was a sensitive kid, his mom was an alcoholic, and his dad was kind of an aloof pothead himself. Neither parent was ever mentally present, and Matt tended to confide most of his feelings and time into his friends and girlfriend – to a point where it was honestly unhealthy.

After an argument with his girlfriend and boundaries from me, he went home and hung himself. What’s weird is that after his death, my parents started asking me to get weed for them.

Pot became this self-medication and crutch in my life that was always there and I couldn’t get away from.

Getting clean and starting a real mental health treatment with real health care providers was a big step for me. Taking medicine for my blood pressure was a big step for me.

But I think therapy is where I actually get a chance at healing from Matt’s death, instead of just managing around the way weed let me do for over 20 years.

I’m doing this for my family and me

I did it because I love my daughter Radley and want to be a good example of how to love yourself. I want to be here for her to provide – not only financially – but that support system a father is supposed to give his child.

Different than what Matt had at home – and different from what I had. I know my mother will read this, and I hope she knows that doesn’t include her. Mom always loved me and provided me with everything she ever could.

Being a father has made me realize everything about me now rubs off on my child. How I react to my past and present, and who I’ll be in the near future, impact her.

I haven’t decided if I’m starting Wegovy. I’ve got three months to keep improving myself through diet, exercise, and therapy before another round of bloodwork.

I started this blog to journal difficult things like this. Just like the first steps I took on my health, this is the first step to writing about the stuff that really bothers me. It’s time I continue writing about them.

I hope the reflection leads to growth, and next time I read this, I’ll be that much stronger and healthier. Not just for me, but for Radley.