Regular cannabis consumers have been celebrating newly legal states as they come online–I know that I have. With more accessibility, increased visibility, and lowered stigmatization comes additional research and scientific knowledge about the plant and people who use it.
I am a medical cannabis patient who consumes more than the average bear. While I’ll leave the precise amount I spend on my medicine between me and my accountant, I do have tools to help me gauge my consumption on the medical to CUD meter.
RELATED: Cannabis bars common in states sans legal weed
There are a few issues with medical cannabis, like the fact that fat bong rips may not be the healthiest way to get cannabinoids in my system. But oh wow, does it work for me. Most modern pharmaceuticals started as an herbal remedy before being perfected, extracted, and turned into a pill, inhaler, or topical that promises the same experience every time. Cannabis exists in the middle, still available in herbal form but slowly being developed into medicine.
While big pharma and the weed industry figure that out, the latest stoner bogeyman, cannabis use disorder (CUD), gains more recognition. CUD is a complicated condition that indicates someone is in a problematic pattern with mild to severe weed addiction. This has opened up a conversation about how regularly consuming patients might avoid this diagnosis.
Without a verified dose and 100 percent replicable product, medical patients may fall under the diagnostic criteria for the disorder. Many high-needs patients are daily consumers who might fall into the CUD pot. There needs to be a defined line between the two.
Cannabis use disorder versus high-needs medical use
Cannabis helps me function daily, but that does not mean I don’t use weed recreationally. Some nights, I smoke weed to get high, and other days, I aim to reach an equilibrium that allows me to person (verb). Unfortunately, there are moments where I overshoot that middle ground, accidentally getting a little stoned when I don’t mean to. It is on these days that I often ponder the place where medical cannabis and CUD touch.
A 2015 study declared that three in every ten cannabis consumers have CUD. Those who start smoking weed or eating garden gummies at a younger age are believed to be at higher risk of developing the disorder.
Diagnostic criteria are a list of experiences and truths that help a doctor pinpoint whether someone has something like CUD. Some of the criteria include using more weed than intended, trying but failing to quit, spending a lot of time using it, and craving weed. Other signs include continuing use despite cannabis causing life issues, giving up valuable parts of life like friendships for weed, using it in high-risk situations, continuing despite health issues, and/or a growing tolerance. A friend also told me that a doctor once believed that since he dreamed about weed, he had CUD. So, the criteria may vary based on the health professional.
RELATED: New tool makes everyone a weed expert
Weed addiction is real, but avoidable with these tactics
Stoners and regular consumers may feel uneasy, pondering whether they have CUD after reading that laundry list. Now, we find ourselves back where we started, navigating the misty area where CUD patients and medical cannabis might meet.
Smoking weed or vaping carts may not be as healthy as taking a tincture, but the onset time cannot be beat. Unfortunately, this is not yet scientifically verified. I am unsure what one dose will be of each product, and availability means I often choose between new things when I pick up from the dispensary. All of these things make a soup that could easily be labeled CUD.
People might build up a tolerance or crave weed if they rely on it medically, and buying new products sometimes means accidentally getting higher than you mean to. At least, it does for me at times. Perhaps the answer is that CUD does not apply to medical patients, but I’m not sure that could be deemed a universal truth.
The reality is that every medical patient should be in conversation with themselves about whether their consumption is truly medical or if they are getting high. There is often no harm in enjoying weed recreationally, but abusing it under the guise of medical consumption is not a good look.
Staying in conversation and holding space
I confront the creeping fear that I have CUD in a few ways. First, I am intentional about my consumption. I try to set a goal for why I’m ripping the bong or the pen before I do it. This helps me look at the weed as a tool rather than thoughtlessly getting stoned. I also keep track of what strains and doses work to dial in how stoned I feel. This has been essential when I’m the primary parent to my toddler.
Cannabis can be a beautiful tool for people battling seizures, chronic pain, complex post-traumatic stress disorder, and so many other life-altering diagnoses. It also has the potential to cause pulmonary stress, could take a toll on heart health, and has the potential for addiction.
I avoid CUD by being honest with myself and taking my consumption seriously, even if the medicine comes in colorful packages and sometimes tastes like candy. How people accomplish this may always look different, but what matters is that they are trying to maintain a healthy relationship with their medicine.
