[Jade.Transmit.004]
“Most people call it burnout. I call it signal loss.”
For most of my adult life, I didn’t burn out — I smoked out. Every day since I was 15, I lit up. Weed wasn’t recreation; it was regulation. It dulled the chaos, softened the edges, and quietly stole the engine out of me.
Twenty years of that.
I’ve quit before — a few times for months at a stretch. Always for jobs strict enough to test you and watch you take the test. Not quite court-ordered, but close enough to make your heart race when you pee.
But the weed always came back. Not in celebration — in resignation.
Then, two months ago, I cut it completely. And the effect was electric. Suddenly, I didn’t need nine hours of sleep. Didn’t need to coax my brain into gear with caffeine and chaos. My body wasn’t broken. It was just sedated.
Now? I’m awake. I’m raw. And I’m wielding energy I forgot I had.
Do I relapse? Yeah. Like the other day — smoked with my mom after finally getting my license. One session. A flicker. But I didn’t spiral. I napped. I rose. The fog stayed behind.
Today, I felt something like burnout — building a WordPress site that kept fighting me. But it wasn’t burnout. It was friction. Resistance. Annoyance. I’ve felt real burnout — and this ain’t it.
Because now I start. I move. I burn with intent.
Burnout isn’t always about doing too much. Sometimes it’s about being chained before you even begin.
And tomorrow? I’ll fix the damn site — with the best partner I’ve ever had watching my six.
Dispatch out.