By: A.R Sky
I have always suffered from General Anxiety Disorder (GAD). It was such a normal occurrence in my life that I didn’t realize I was ‘sick’ until another coworker, one who also suffered from anxiety and uses marijuana to treat it, recognized my symptoms as some of her own. In the summer of 2016, I began smoking pot to treat the symptoms of my mental illness.
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I was 19 when I was sexually assaulted. It was one of my first sexual encounters and, for a long time after that, neither my body, nor my mind, understood that sex didn’t have to hurt in some way, shape, or form.
To put it in perspective, I didn’t start regularly smoking pot until I was 23. For the first four years of my “sexual life,” I spent it craving the intimacy of touch and sex while also dealing with the common side effects of PTSD.
Among these side effects was Depersonalization, a disorder that can be experienced independently of anxiety, or as a side effect where the patient feels as though they’re observing themselves from outside their body.
Most times, sex was an out of body experience for me. It was scary for my psyche, and it hurt my body. How was I supposed to relax and enjoy myself when I wasn’t even present for the experience?
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During the summer of 2016, when I first started smoking regularly, I was casually seeing someone who was a heavy smoker. When we finally took things to the bedroom, I was pleasurably surprised by how easily things came for me. (No pun intended… yet.)
I was already comfortable with the effects of marijuana on my anxious mind, how it softens the blow of my racing thoughts, and the way it makes my body feel, but I had underestimated what that might mean when it came to intimacy.
With my anxiety turned down, and my PTSD held at bay, my body was finally the center of attention, not the fragility of my mind.
No matter how much I liked my partner, nor how much I would trust them, I would always have to brace myself for the initial penetration. Each, and every time, would feel like ‘my first time’ all over again – painful. Scary.
Definitely not pleasurable. Smoking pot helped me discard my anxieties on the bedroom floor along with my clothing, and it became apparent after that first night that my body, and my mental health, needed a little boost.
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My partner’s hands on my skin no longer felt as though it was declaration of my body for his own satisfaction, but rather, for the first time ever, my skin, and all of its nerve endings felt worshipped (for the science geeks out there, this is due to the CB1 receptor that increases tactile sensations, according to Dr. Lester Grinspoon).
For someone who had struggled for years to experience pleasure and comfortability, within minutes of my head hitting the pillow I found myself reveling in the thrills of self-indulgence of all different kinds and magnitudes, more than once, multiple at a time, for minutes on end.
I value the benefits of marijuana, and why I continue to choose to bring it back into the bedroom with me. When I’m with someone in bed and I’m cruising at maximum altitude, I’m not worried about my O-face, or the way my body naturally reacts, or anything, honestly, because I’m too busy enjoying myself to give those things a second thought.
No longer am I worried about controlling my thoughts and the awful places it could go while being intimate, but rather I’m freely giving up the control over my sensations, giving myself over to science and chemistry and letting those CB1 receptors we talked about earlier turn my body on and my mind off, and allowing myself to feel what everyone deserves to feels – love.
A love for my body. A love for my partner. A love for the bonding of two people, even if it’s just for one, messy night. Satisfaction is much more satisfying when you don’t spend the rest of the night fighting off panic attacks in the bathroom due to flashbacks.
The pleasure just keeps on coming. Pun intended.
Just like I had no idea what pot could do for my mental stability and the physical side effects of migraines and stomach aches, I had no idea what it could bring to the table . . . or, more accurately, the bedroom. Now, three years later, I can confidently say that my vagina is a show-runner in the bedroom.
She knows what she wants, and how she likes it, and it’s empowering. Weed (Putting that sweet relish in the air, smoking those trees, blazing the ganj, getting that good-good) has helped me claim my body back as a woman after my assault.
It’s medicine, and it helps, and it can help not only the one in three women who suffer from PTSD from their own sexual assault, but also those who just can’t seem to make it all the way to the top of that climax.
In case you need an extra nudge, here’s a list of some of the best strains you can smoke specifically for your orgasms.
Smoke, relax, and I do hope you enjoy your potgasms.
A. R. Sky graduated from SUNY Oswego in 2014 with a degree in creative writing, but has been writing professionally since 2010 for a variety of platforms. Her favorite strain of weed is Durban’s Poison.
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