Strange Changes

Right now my life is both bitter and sweet. Like most people I have good and bad things going on. I seem to focus far too much on the bad though. Its very difficult to focus on the good when you're depressed. Sometimes I almost feel like I'm cursed. I can't say nothing good ever happens to me but its a rare occasion. Things have changed quite a bit since April though. I've reconnected with an old friend, my family has become even more disfunct, and we sucked the poisonous people out of our lives. Everything else is pretty much the same. My husband is still suspicious of my every move, I'm still pretty much completely broke and my casual use of marijuana is coming dangerously close to becoming an addiction. I wonder if my husband would be so suspicious of me if he knew my sex drive is almost completely shot. I don't want to have sex with him let alone anyone else. All I want to do lately is lay around with my best friend and smoke pot. I try to rationalize it so that I don't get labeled an addict but how many weeks do I have to go without spending money all because I need to have weed before its considered a problem? I don't want to stop but I see exactly where this is going. The constant smoking started because I was bored all the time. It elevated when my father died and now it almost seems like I can't get out of bed unless weed is promised to me. I always thought addiction only happens when you do hard drugs and alcohol. No one would ever become addicted to bud.  Its a harmless plant.  I don't really think I'm addicted to reefer though, I'm addicted to the feeling. I'm addicted to the fact that it helps me sleep, keeps me calm and makes me happy. I feel like its no different than someone who takes xanax or ambien. I think smoking is better because its not a chemical reaction its natural. Just keep rationalizing like that and I'll never be considered an addict.

Perfectly Lonely

Time goes by quickly. It really does and there is nothing you can do about it. I feel like for the past year or so I've been slipping closer and closer to insanity. I've been crying, nay screaming for help but no one is there when I turn around. I'm surrounded by people who hear what I'm saying but never really listen to my words. I feel as though I used to be on top of the world but now I just carry the weight of it on my shoulders.

People always say "its about the quality not the quantity." They say it about everything, belongings, and friends. I've taken a good look around and I don't have much of anything. The quality isn't so great either. Does this make me a poor person?