How Cannabis Keeps My Bipolar Condition in Check

After countless pharmaceuticals, this writer found a drug that works

Tracey Lynn Lloyd
ZORA

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Credit: Holmes Awa/Getty Images

II grew up believing my brain would turn to fried eggs in the presence of drugs, and sizzling brains weren’t for me. My firm anti-drug manifesto was practical, not moral: “I’m smart, I need all of my brain cells, so keep your drugs.” I smoked weed twice in college, but it rarely appealed.

My “just say no” attitude persisted until, at age 28, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. I’d struggled for years with low moods, but my concentration had become nonexistent, and I couldn’t retain information. I was in grad school, and my depressed brain told me that I wasn’t smart enough for my program, and lulled me to bed, crying, and away from school and social life for days on end. For the first time ever, I felt out of control, and stupid, which was unacceptable. I finally agreed to take an antidepressant, and the fog cleared after two weeks. I didn’t know about brain chemistry then, but I knew that after a few weeks of psych meds, I was myself again. My outgoing, tear-free, competent self was back.

My depression was a hurricane, going out to sea for brief respites, then wrecking the shores of my brain with renewed vigor.

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Tracey Lynn Lloyd
ZORA
Writer for

Storyteller. Innovator. Master of most. I write about relationships, mental illness, and all the intersections of my identity. Ask about my cats.