This Puzzled Life is a mental health and recovery blog exploring addiction, trauma healing, LGBTQ experiences, humor, and the strange moments that shape us.
“People say stoners forget things. I say we remember what matters.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away. Today, I want to tell you about another strain that was one of the first strains that I tried. This packs a punch to the dome and its name is Skywalker OG.
Skywalker OG is a potent indica-dominant hybrid strain. It is a cross between Skywalker x OG Kush. It’s a cross between Blueberry x Mazar-I-Sharif. OG Kush is a cross between Chemdawg x Lemon Thai x Hindu Kush. All of these strains are amazing while standing alone. This is definitely a strain that I see as one of my all-time top cannabis strains. This strain has won two High Times Cannabis Cup awards.
Top terpenes are Myrcene, Limonene, and Caryophyllene. Medical patients report relief from such conditions as chronic pain, insomnia and other sleep disorders, stress, anxiety, mood, and appetite stimulation. I also want to say that this strain is good for PTSD. This one will put you to sleep and helps a lot from chronic pain. If you need a strong strain to help suppress uncomfortable symptoms, this strain is for you. I smoke this as a vape cart. We know that the tastes are different based on it being a solvent being use to make it. However, I can definitely taste the citrus and pine flavorings. But first make your nest and get comfortable. If you’re a novice smoker, please don’t get to bold. Because it will show you who the boss really is. Thanks for reading! Keep blazin.’
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to tell you about another strain that is a grassroots strain for us. Its name is Afghan Kush.
Afghan Kush aka Afghan OG is a pure indica. And it’s origins are that it’s a landrace strain from the Hindu Kush mountain range in Afghanistan. And specifically, it’s the area near the Pakistan border, specifically thriving in the Amu Darya River Valley. It’s considered one of the original cannabis indica types. And it was introduced to Western breeders via the “Hippie Trail” in the 1960s and 70s. I did get a strong taste of pepper in my bud. But the flavor profile includes an herbal, pine, spicy, sweet, and woody notes. A definite must have in your stash.
Patients report relief from chronic pain, depression, insomnia, loss of appetite, migraines, PMS, PTSD, and stress. And I can attest to each one of these. Afghan Kush is a very heavy and potent indica. And it’s so strong that you don’t just have “couchlock,” you become a space cadet. So, it’s not a strain that I would recommend for daytime use. Please keep in mind that each grow will be different and the flower’s effects will differ depending on which region of the country that the plant is grown. Thanks for reading! Keep blazin.’
Affirmation: With each inhale, I return to myself.
“I am not the sum of what was done to me. I am the proof that even in the places where humanity failed, my spirit refused to.”
-This Puzzled Life
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Today, I’m going to talk about sexual assault. Religious betrayal. And the kind of generational silence that tries to swallow whole communities. We might as well start with a cleansing. Lord knows the air gets thick when truth finally walks into the room.
There are some topics into which you don’t ease. You cannonball straight in. Bless your heart and everyone else’s. Sexual Assault Awareness is one of them. And if you grew up anywhere near the Deep South like I did, you know we were raised on two things casseroles and silence. One of those is delicious. The other is deadly. So today, we’re breaking the generational habit of whispering about the things that actually need megaphones. Let’s start with the part that makes people shift in their seats like they’re sitting on a church pew with a splinter.
These aren’t “somewhere out there” numbers. These are “in your neighborhood, in your school, in your family, in your church, and in your workplace” numbers. And if that makes you uncomfortable, good. Discomfort is the first sign your moral compass still works.
Survivors are people who still show up to work. Raise kids. Laugh at memes. And try to remember where they put their keys. They’re not broken. They’re exhausted from carrying what should’ve never been theirs to hold. And if you’re a survivor reading this, let me say this plainly. You are not the shame. You are the evidence that harm can be done and still not win. The shame belongs with the perpetrator.
Now, I’m not talking about making light of this kind of crime. That’s not humor. That’s cruelty with a punchline. I’m talking about the kind of humor survivors use to stay alive. The kind that says, “I’ve been through hell. But I still have jokes. So clearly hell didn’t win.” It’s the same humor Southern aunties use when they say things like, “We don’t air our dirty laundry.” While standing in front of a clothesline full of secrets flapping in the wind. Humor is a pressure valve. It lets us breathe while we talk about the things that steal breath.
If someone trusts you enough to tell you they were assaulted, here’s your script. “I’m so sorry that happened,” “I believe you” and “How can I support you right now?” Notice what’s missing? Questions that sound like cross examinations. Advice no one asked for. And any sentence beginning with “Why didn’t you…?” Survivors don’t need detectives. They need validation that the abuse happened and that it wasn’t their fault in any way.
Sexual abuse cases in the U.S. justice system have increased by 62.5% since 2020. Yet the vast majority of survivors never see justice at all. And before anyone says “Well, reporting is easy.” Let me remind you. If reporting were easy, we wouldn’t have a national hotline that stays busy 24/7.
People who’ve lived through abuse, especially abuse justified with moral or religious language, tend to recognize certain dynamics instantly. Power used without accountability. Authority figures protecting each other instead of the vulnerable. Moral language used as a shield for harmful behavior. Gaslighting and denial when confronted with wrongdoing. Silencing or discrediting those who speak up through threats and intimidation. And systems that reward loyalty over truth.
These patterns show up in many places like churches, marriages, schools, corporations, and yes, in government. Survivors often have the clearest radar for institutional betrayal. Because they’ve lived it in the most intimate way possible. When you look at the world and say, “This feels familiar.” That’s not paranoia. That’s pattern recognition born from experience.
I grew up in a world where people could quote scripture faster than they could show compassion. Where pastors’ children could harm a five‑year‑old and still be called “good families.” And where a husband could twist the Bible into a weapon and call it marriage. I know what it feels like to be violated in Jesus’ name. I know what it feels like to be told your body is a man’s property. I know what it feels like when resistance is met with punishment. When silence is demanded. And when trauma is treated like an inconvenience.
Trump said of rape victim E. Jean Carroll “she loved it!” But he also said he didn’t know her. About 29:10 is where he says this. Watch the whole thing and tell me why you think victims don’t come out sooner. This is the way that abusers keep their victims in fear for years. Mine did the same thing.
After a lifetime of being told to stay quiet when people in power start using God, morality, or “order” as a shield, it’s never about holiness. It’s about control. I’ve lived under that kind of control. I’ve survived it. I know exactly what it looks like when someone wraps abuse in scripture and calls it righteousness. So, when I see institutions using the same tactics, same silencing, same moral posturing to protect themselves instead of the people they harm, I don’t need a press release to tell me what’s going on. Survivors recognize the pattern long before the headlines catch up.
What do we do?We talk. We teach. We intervene. We stop pretending this is a “women’s issue” or a “men’s issue” or a “kids these days” issue. It’s a human issue. We raise kids who know consent isn’t a suggestion. We raise adults who know silence is complicity. We raise communities where survivors don’t have to choose between telling the truth and keeping the peace.
And at the end of the day, the pattern speaks louder than any press conference ever could. The world watched as Jeffrey Epstein’s name kept resurfacing in court documents, flight logs, and survivor testimony. The world also watched as questions piled up about who knew what, who looked away, and who benefited from the silence. People aren’t asking these questions because they’re bored. They’re asking because the public record is full of smoke. And every time someone tries to follow it, another door slams shut.
If the Trump administration thought history would politely avert its eyes, they miscalculated. Survivors don’t forget. Journalists don’t forget. The internet definitely doesn’t forget. And the truth has a funny habit of surviving every cover‑up attempt. Because eventually, the receipts outlast the people who hoped we’d stop reading them.
And to my fellow survivors, you are not alone. You are not to blame. You are not too much. You are a whole person with a whole story. And the world is better because you’re still here to tell it. And if anyone tries to silence you, just remember. You come from a long line of people who know how to make noise when it matters.
After the childhood abuse, the marital rape, the spiritual manipulation, the PTSD that still echoes through my bones. I’ve learned something important. Abuse doesn’t just happen in homes and churches. It happens anywhere power goes unchecked. So, if you hear a familiar pattern in the way certain institutions operate today, you’re not imagining it.
Once you’ve lived through the kind of darkness that tries to disguise itself as divine, you stop being intimidated by titles, pulpits, or podiums. You stop mistaking authority for integrity. And you stop believing that silence is the price of peace. If your power depends on someone else’s silence, it’s not leadership. It’s abuse with better lighting. And survivors like me aren’t afraid of the dark anymore.Thanks for reading! And never let them silence you.
Affirmation: I honor the child I was, the survivor I became, and the woman I am now. My voice is not fragile. It is forged. My healing is not a question. It is a declaration. I rise today not because the past was gentle, but because I am.
“I’m high on life. Oh, wait, sorry, that’s just marijuana.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. And since tomorrow is Child Abuse Awareness and the ribbon is blue, I want to talk to you about one of my favorite strains for PTSD called Blue Dream.
This strain I was introduced in the early days of figuring out the state’s cannabis program. While Blue Dream is a slightly sativa-dominant hybrid. If you’ve been a survivor with PTSD, you understand how very uncomfortable the visual and audio overstimulation can be. It slowly engulfs you until something is able to break the forward motion of those symptoms. This strain is one that does just that for me.
Let’s look at this strain’s lineage. Blue Dream is a 60/40 sativa-dominant cross between Blueberry x Haze. Blueberry is a cross between Purple Thai x Afghan. Haze are landrace strains, which are naturally grown in the wild with no genetic manipulation from Mexican, Colombian, Thai, and South Indian decent. Typically, the hazy strains can taste like a sweaty sock. One of the best things about this strain is that blueberry flavoring is strong enough to offset the hazy flavors. And it lasts from packed bowl to last toke. But despite the sativa side, that hazy indica comes through to help quell anxiety provoking effects.
The top terpenes in this strain are Myrcene, Pinene, and Caryophyllene. The medical benefits include chronic stress, chronic pain, depression, and sleep disorders. This strain is perfect for a one-gram attitude adjustment. Make this strain a staple in your cannabis medicine cabinet. Thanks for reading! And keep blazin.’
Affirmation: I treat myself like I’m my kindest, best bud.
“If your faith requires someone else to suffer, it’s not holy. It’s just dressed‑up cruelty.”
-This Puzzled Life
Light the charcoal. Apparently the courts woke up. Stretched. Sipped their Folgers and said, “Hmm. What if we brought back psychological torture today?” And the conservative Christians said, “YAY! Revival!” Meanwhile, every queer person in the South is standing on their porch like, “Lord, give me strength, patience, and a Xanax the size of a biscuit.”
Down here in Mississippi, we know hypocrisy like we know humidity. It clings. It suffocates. It ruins your hair and your spirit at the same time. And nothing brings out the hypocrisy quite like a ruling that says, “Sure, go ahead and traumatize queer people in the name of Jesus. He won’t mind.” These folks will tell you with a straight face that they’re doing this out of “love.” If that’s love, then I’m a straight man named Bubba who drives a lifted truck and says “bro” every six seconds.
Let’s be honest. This ruling isn’t about saving souls. It’s about controlling bodies. It’s about punishing difference. It’s about making queer people small enough to fit inside their narrow theology and even narrower worldview. And the wildest part? These are the same people who can’t keep their own households together. The same people who preach “traditional marriage” while living like a deleted storyline from a messy reality show. The same people who scream “protect the children!” While ignoring the actual dangers children face like abuse, exploitation, and the youth pastor who keeps volunteering for overnight trips.
But sure. Let’s focus on the gays. Because we’re clearly the problem. Not the pastors who keep getting “relocated.” Not the lawmakers who can’t keep their pants zipped. Not the “family values” influencers who spend more time in hotel rooms than in prayer.
Let me break it down in terms even a conservative uncle can understand. You cannot convert someone out of being gay. You cannot shame someone out of being gay. You cannot therapy someone out of being gay. You cannot “deliverance session” someone out of being gay. Unless the only thing you’re delivering is trauma.
If sexuality were a choice, don’t you think I would’ve chosen something easier? Something with less paperwork? Something that didn’t require me to explain myself at every family gathering like I’m giving a TED Talk in a Cracker Barrel? But no. God made me like this. Curved, colorful, and incapable of pretending otherwise.
You could dangle 45 sets of dangly bits in front of me like a clearance sale at Spencer’s Gifts and I still wouldn’t be straight. But put me in front of some boobs and a cooter cat and suddenly I’m glowing like a porch light in July. That’s not a choice. That’s not a phase. That’s not a “lifestyle.” That’s divine architecture.
If you want to stay in the closet because it feels safer, I get it. But don’t pretend it’s holiness. Don’t pretend it’s righteousness. Don’t pretend it’s “God’s plan.” It’s fear. And fear is the currency of conservative Christianity. I sprinted out of the closet like it was on fire. And I’ve been free ever since. Even with my own family members who weaponize scripture like it’s a Nerf gun filled with shame. I send that mess right back to sender with a smile and a boundary. Chosen family is where the love lives. Chosen family is where the truth lives. Chosen family is where the rainbow was always meant to shine.
Theo rainbow is divine reassurance. It’s God saying, “Relax. I made y’all fabulous on purpose.” No court ruling can change that. No pastor can change that. No conversion therapist with a clipboard and a superiority complex can change that. We are here. We are queer. We are not going anywhere. And we are not apologizing for existing.
So let the smoke rise like a prayer the evangelicals forgot to proofread. Stand tall in your queerness like a magnolia tree that refuses to bow to the storm. Because here’s the truth they don’t want to face. Every time they try to erase us. We multiply. Every time they try to shame us. We shine harder. Every time they try to legislate us out of existence. We become louder, brighter, and more unbothered than ever.
Their hypocrisy is loud. But our joy is louder. Their cruelty is sharp. But our resilience is sharper. Their fear is deep. But our love is deeper. And at the end of the day, when the court rulings fade. When the sermons lose their sting. When the shame campaigns collapse under their own weight. We will still be here laughing. Loving. Living. Thriving. Dancing in the rainbow God hung in the sky as a reminder that storms don’t last forever.
So let them clutch their pearls. Let them scream about “family values.” Let them pretend their closets don’t have motion‑activated lights. We know the truth. You damn sure cannot stop the rainbow from rising. Mic dropped. Floor cracked. Hypocrisy exposed. Amen and pass the sweet tea. Thanks for reading! And Happy Pride year-round. What are your thoughts on this type of ruling?
Affirmation: “My identity is divine. My joy is sacred. And no court, church, or closet can dim the rainbow God put in my soul.”
“Hope isn’t blind. It’s stubborn. It keeps standing up even when the world keeps trying to knock it sideways.”
-A Blue Dot American Who Refuses to Sit Down
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Tell the ancestors to clock in for overtime. Lord help us, y’all. The United States is going through it. And by “it,” I mean the kind of national meltdown that makes you look around and say, “Surely this is a deleted scene from a dystopian comedy that never made it to Netflix because the plot was too unrealistic.” Yet here we are. Living it. Breathing it. And trying not to scream into a pothole on I‑59.
To the rest of the world:
Please don’t give up on us. I promise you the majority of Americans are not standing behind the chaos, cruelty, or conspiracy‑soaked nonsense that has taken over our headlines. Most of us are exhausted, horrified, and Googling “how to apply for dual citizenship” at 2 a.m.while clutching a heating pad and a prayer. We see the instability. We see the authoritarian vibes. We see the white‑nationalist cosplay that keeps popping up like mold in a damp apartment. And we’re fighting it loudly, creatively, and with the kind of determination only a country built on protest can muster.
Yes, we know our leadership looks like a fever dream. Some people in power are making decisions that feel like they were written by a committee of raccoons who found a bottle of expired cough syrup. And our country is being run by a pube signature. Some are facing public scrutiny over their past associations. They include the widely reported connections between political figures and Jeffrey Epstein’s social circle. And the public has every right to demand transparency, accountability, and the full truth. People across the political spectrum have been calling for the release of all relevant documents. Because sunlight is still the best disinfectant. Meanwhile, the rest of us are over here like, “Hey world, please don’t judge us by the loudest people in the room. We’re trying to get the remote back from the uncle who keeps changing the channel to chaos.”
To our allies abroad:
We still see you as family. We still believe in cooperation, democracy, and global peace. We still want to stand shoulder‑to‑shoulder with you. And not stomp around the world stage like a toddler who missed naptime. Please keep talking to your governments about ways to support democracy here. Not because we’re helpless. But because democracy is a team sport. And right now, our team captain keeps wandering off the field.
About the weaponized religion situation. Listen. I grew up in the Deep South. I know about Jesus. I know his work. I know his vibe. And I can tell you with full confidence that Jesus would be flipping tables so fast in Mississippi right now that he’d qualify for CrossFit. The loudest “Christian” voices down here aren’t preaching love, compassion, or justice. They’re preaching fear, control, and purity culture. Which is ironic considering how many of their own scandals keep popping up like whack‑a‑moles at the county fair.
Not all Christians are like this. Some are kind, loving, justice‑oriented people who actually read the parts of the Bible about caring for the oppressed. But in Mississippi I can count those folks on one hand and still have fingers left to hold my sweet tea.
And for the record. I embrace all religions. All ethnicities. All genders. All sexual orientations. All cultures. Except the ones built on cruelty, control, or harming children. If you come to this country with love in your heart and respect for human dignity, you’re welcome at my table. I’ll even make you cornbread.
If you are brown, seeking asylum, fleeing violence, or simply trying to give your babies a better life. You are welcome in the America I believe in. The real America. The one with a heartbeat. The one that remembers its own immigrant roots even when our politicians pretend they sprouted straight out of the soil like turnips.
The America I love has always been a patchwork quilt of cultures, languages, and stories. And it has been stitched together by people who crossed oceans, deserts, and borders because hope was louder than fear. That America still exists. It’s bruised, tired, and currently being held hostage by people who think compassion is a weakness. But it’s still here. And it’s not going anywhere.
We just have to clean our governing house first. And Lord when I say “clean,” I don’t mean a light dusting. I mean roll up your sleeves. Put on the yellow gloves. And open every window because something in here died in 1987. And nobody ever dealt with it. The corruption runs deep. Deep like “you’re gonna need a shovel, a headlamp, and maybe a priest” deep. We’re not afraid of hard work. We built this country on hard work. We can rebuild it the same way.
And let me say this plainly. Donald Trump does not speak for us. Not for the majority. Not for the heart of this country. Not for the people who still believe in democracy, dignity, and basic human decency. Millions of Americans across races, religions, genders, and backgrounds are fighting every single day to protect what’s left of our democratic institutions. They’re marching, voting, organizing, educating, and refusing to be bullied into silence. We’re not giving up. We’re not backing down. We’re not letting authoritarianism take root in the soil our ancestors bled to cultivate.
The heart of the United States will return. I believe that with everything in me. Not because things look good. Because they don’t. Not because the path is easy. Because it isn’t. But because the soul of this country has always been bigger than the people trying to tear it apart. We’ve survived wars, depressions, pandemics, corruption, and more than one leader who thought the Constitution was optional reading. We’ll survive this too. The real America is the one built on courage, diversity, and stubborn hope. And it is still here. Still fighting. Still glowing like a blue dot in a sea of red hats. Thanks for reading! And Fuck Donald Trump, ICE, and MAGA.
Affirmation: I glow in the dark. I stand in the storm. And I refuse to let chaos speak louder than my courage. My voice, my vote, and my hope are stronger than any tyrant’s tantrum.
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to stay with the self harm awareness color by highlighting strain names and colors. The strain is called Orange Kush.
Orange Kush aka Orange OG was developed by Green Devil Genetics in the 1990’s by combining Orange Bud x OG Kush. You can definitely smell and taste the citrus with a mixture of that fuel paternal line. And don’t worry, the citrus tones down the somewhat overpowering diesel of the OG Kush. While it’s not what I would consider as a “heavy hitter,” it is still a very relaxing strain.
I am using the full spectrum dab syringe by Midsouth Extracts. The THC is at 59%, which is the typical range per state requirement. The top terpene profile is p-Myrcene, Limonene and Linalool. While this product is labeled as an indica, it’s more of a creeper hybrid. The effects come on somewhat slower and aren’t too heavy. This is a concentration that could be used with novice users. I have eaten this out of the syringe and dabbed this strain both ways give you a nice taste of this plant’s terpenes. However, don’t overdo it.
The strain is considered both an indica and a hybrid. The majority of Kush are indicas. The more citrus strains I have found to be more sativa. And this concentrate is definitely the best of both worlds. The sativa side is strong enough to still be functional. And the indica side is enough to muffle out any potential panic attacks. The medical effects pain relief, depression, sleep, relaxation. anxiety, ADHD, inflammation, loss of appetite, PMS, migraines and muscle spasms. And it is a strain that has been popular in Arizona and the Pacific Northwest. (allbud.com.) Definitely, a really good one for completing a task. It is sort of a little creeper initially so don’t go crazy until you know your tolerance. It’s about 70% Indica-30% Sativa in my opinion.
Wherever you’re celebrating Pride, stop into a legal dispensary and ask Orange Kush by name without worrying about it being too heavy. And definitely one to complete your awareness of self-harm. Thanks for reading! Keep blazin’.
Affirmation: No matter how I identify, I am beautiful.
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to tell you about a strain that reminds me of cold mornings when I was a kid. The strain is called Blueberry Muffins.
Blueberry Muffins is an 80/20 indica-dominant hybrid that many stoners love. It is a cross between Purple Panty Dropper x Blueberry. Purple Panty Dropper is a cross between Purple Haze x Oregon Grape x Matanuskan Mist. Blueberry is a cross between Purple Thai x Afghan. This strain is just loaded with great genetics. And it’s one that I really enjoy.
The major terpenes in this strain are Myrcene, Caryophyllene, Limonene, Humulene, and Bisabolol. Patients report relief from conditions such as chronic pain, anxiety, stress, nausea, headaches, and migraines. This strain is just an all-around good strain. It’s good for both day and nighttime. It’s still a very indica strain that is what I need with overstimulation. If you are used to smoking heavy indicas, this one is not that potent. Beware of the dreaded “couch lock” if not used in moderation though. But it is still strong enough to use at night. This is a very popular strain in the area in which I live. And I would highly recommend this strain for potency and that wonderful berry flavoring. Thanks for reading! Keep blazin’.
I am the light you tried to strangle, the light you tried to stifle in your chokehold.
But my light bled all over the pages of your book, your preconceived narratives, your filthy words and your attempts to bring terror back into the blank space of my eyes.
Who am I?
I’ll tell you who I am.
I birthed revolution in my bones like the many women that came before me.
I ignited flames beneath my skin, using the fiery spirits of women who walked beside me
as matches; we breathed fire into each other’s hearts until the world could see us and from the ashes we were reborn.
Who am I?
I’ll tell you who I am.
I am the fear in your hatred, the pain that you tried to use to violate my sacred spaces, rip me apart until I was nothing,
but I knew I would always be something, somebody, and now I am.
I am layers and layers of the love and power that act as your kryptonite,
and with the words and actions of all those who rose with me, I’ll build an impenetrable wall.
Who am I?
I am the thing that nightmarish people have nightmares about,
wake up sweating about, thinking about —
their furrowed brows tense with self-doubt —
wondering if I and the other warriors I march with could ever come back to life.
Who am I?
I am the restless rebel you tried to bury,
the one you tried to pull out by the root and eradicate when she began to grow from the seed.
Who am I?
I’ll tell you who I am.
I am the girl you left for dead thinking she’d always fall and never rise again.
I am the girl you cut with your razor blade wrath, the girl you thought would never fight back.
I am the girl you underestimated, the woman you tormented, the child whose shackles you tightened.
Who am I?
I think you already know –
I think you understand.
I am the prisoner you tried to cage, the little girl you made afraid –
I am the woman who never gave up, the one who exposed your charade —
Who am I?
I am everything and anything that you will stand againstto try to regain control.
For every source of darkness, there is a bleeding soul,
one that shines so brightly that the entire war zone becomes illuminated.
I am the truth, your karma, the revolt —
I am the resistance, the pieces you tried to keep shattered, coming back together again.
I emerge quietly, but I resound loudly —reverberate through your skin.
My power was never yours, and it was never yours to take.
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to tell you about a strain called Soul Assassin. As domestic violence awareness month winds down and seeing the damage that abuse can do to someone, I thought that the cannabis strain for today was absolutely perfect. Because of being trapped mentally or physically from seeking freedom, often times for years, it feels like the perpetrator has literally assassinated your soul.
Soul Assassin is a heavy indica-dominant hybrid. Domestic violence is something heavy that is like a wrecking ball in the victim’s life. But this strain is heavy in regard to healing. It’s just what the doctor order for the overstimulation of PTSD. The genetics of this strain is a cross between OG Kush x Sour Diesel. Most like myself, who have been in the cannabis community for many years, know that these are a couple strains that many would consider staples. OG Kush is a cross between Hindu Kush x Lemon Thai x Chemdawg. Sour Diesel is a cross between Northern Lights x Chemdawg.
The medical benefits associated with this strain include relief from insomnia, anxiety, mood disorders, stress, chronic pain, depression, and inflammation. The top terpenes are B-myrcene, terpinolene, B-Pinene. I got a lot of relief with this strain. I would also encourage you to plan on not going anywhere. As “couchlock” can be a reality. Thanks for reading! Keep blazin.’
Affirmation: I smoke my weed and mind my business.
This Puzzled Life 