I Smoked Marijuana for 17 Years. One Terrifying Night With My Son Made Me Quit, But I’m Still Recovering
“Here, take a hit,” my friend said, passing me a joint in her basement rec room in upstate New York. It was 1980, the year John Lennon was shot. I was 13 and clueless about how that first toke would impact the rest of my life.
Share:
WhatsApp