Before I talked to the doctor, I wanted to see if medical marijuana would even help with my problems.
I had been anorexic for a long time now, and I was fearing the damage it was doing to my body. I tried to take care of it myself, but I was weak, and I no longer had an appetite. My husband wasn’t happy with me, and he told me to get my weight under control, or he would leave. He hated watching me push food around my plate and never eat it. I told him I wasn’t hungry, but he knew better. I knew he was joking when he told me marijuana gave you the munchies, so maybe I should go back to being a pothead. I was healthy back then, even if I was too heavy in my eyes. He thought I was beautiful. I went online the next morning and started researching if medical marijuana could help with anorexia. My psychologist had talked about it. She told me that anorexia was a mental condition that became physical. She thought marijuana may lessen my depression and I would have a better appetite. I would need to use it religiously if I wanted it to help. My mind would need to be reprogrammed and realize that eating was essential to living. I told my husband I applied for a medical marijuana ID card and had been approved. He thanked me and said he couldn’t wait for us to get back to being us, and enjoying eating meals together. I had to agree, but it was something I couldn’t yet picture for me.