When Euphoria Turns Into an Opponent

 Recently, I read that in the United States there has been a significant increase in THC use in recent years. Along with this, a phenomenon known as Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS) has been appearing more frequently.

 THC, which many perceived as a beneficial, calming, or medicinal substance, has in some cases turned into an opponent.

THC often acts as a means of inducing euphoria, relieving various types of pain, and improving appetite. However, in some cases—especially with chronic use—it transforms into the opposite of what it was meant to provide.

Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS) is precisely that opposite, and it appears to occur in many chronic THC users.

From experience, I have encountered this in certain individuals as well. They often appear tired, weakened, lacking appetite, frequently vomiting—yet they continue using THC, believing they will overcome the condition, or perhaps due to a perceived dependence. This is cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome.

I looked into 

 the reasons behind CHS:

 The endocannabinoid system is a part of the human body—it regulates mood, appetite, stress, and pain perception. When this system is stimulated externally over a long period of time, it adapts. It reduces sensitivity. It recalibrates. It searches for a new balance: The paradox is that the more a person tries to stabilize their experience through an external substance, the more they may disrupt the body’s ability to stabilize itself.

What is striking is the cyclical nature of this phenomenon: Nausea → THC use → short-term relief → deeper destabilization → further use.

The body sends a signal, but the mind interprets it through past experience: “This has always helped me.” And it is precisely this memory of relief that sustains the cycle.

Physical exhaustion, dehydration, and loss of strength during CHS episodes are symptoms. The body loses electrolytes, cannot eat, sleeps poorly. The body is under strain. Psychological apathy, irritability, or anxiety when abstaining point to another kind of dependence—not necessarily dramatic, but quiet: dependence on external regulation of one’s internal state. The user may find themselves in a vicious circle, aware that THC no longer benefits them, yet unable to stop using it.

The phenomenon of CHS is not merely a medical complication. It is a reminder that any long-term artificial amplification or suppression of a system changes its fundamental setting.

Not every long-term cannabis user will experience this condition. Reactions are individual. Genetics, frequency of use, THC potency, and nervous system sensitivity all play a role. But for those in whom this cycle develops, 

  the solution…

 is paradoxically simple—though psychologically demanding: complete cessation for at least an extended period of time. A return may be possible, but likely only in the form of occasional use rather than chronic use.

Made me laugh

 “If someone doesn’t like it, they probably should work on themselves.”

 

 Sometimes ChatGPT can be amusing. Over the past four days, I’ve been feeling abnormal tired, so I consulted ChatGPT about my current lifestyle.

In the chat, I also mentioned my daily fitness routine. And ChatGPT’s response to my push-ups made me laugh:

 1500 push-ups a day is an extreme volume (sometimes I do even more, up to 2000).

Honestly — that’s more than most professional athletes do for a single muscle group in a day.

To be even more precise:

 In bodybuilding, a high weekly volume for one muscle group is considered roughly:

• 10–20 working sets per week

You’re doing 1500 push-ups a day. Even if I count that as 50 sets of 30 reps, that’s 350 sets per week of a single movement.

That’s a completely different league of volume.

Carrie as a Warning: When Society Fails the Individual

Carrie 2013

 I’ve already written that I like Chloë Moretz because in her films she often portrays what she herself feels, or she chooses roles that have a clear purpose. One of the strongest examples of Chloë Moretz being true to herself, for me, is The Miseducation of Cameron Post. During the U.S. elections, Chloë Moretz also spoke about her identity and expressed concern about the possibility of Donald Trump being elected.

Recently, I rewatched Carrie (2013). This remake of the classic story by Stephen King depicts a teenage girl who is systematically humiliated by her classmates and psychologically suffocated by a fanatical religious upbringing at home.

“I just want a normal life…”,  Carrie 

After watching the film, I was left with questions. For a moment, I was even uneasy about whether the film could be seen as inspirational or as justifying mass murders, which sometimes happen for reasons similar to those the film portrays. Mass shootings are more frequent in the U.S., but such social phenomena are not limited to one country.

The film ultimately feels more like a warning, I think — that when a person is mocked, ignored, or oppressed over a long period of time, something accumulates inside them. Carrie releases this accumulated pain in a destructive way, killing everyone — maybe in distrust of everyone, including those who stood by her. 

Once again, I see in Chloë Moretz someone who accepts a role because of its deeper intention.

And this is where the film asks an uncomfortable question: What happens when a collective systematically destroys an individual — and can later even pretend it knew nothing about it? In Carrie, this is very clear: collective bullying is not just about a few “bad individuals.” It is a group dynamic. And groups have a strong tendency to protect their own image.

It is true that the bullying, humiliation, and rejection of Carrie are carried out by society in the film, yet in the end almost all of them are massacred — except for one person, who later testifies in court about the unbelievable events.

The climax at the prom is not a triumph. It is a tragedy. Carrie does not kill only those who hurt her. In a state of emotional overwhelm, she destroys everything. The film makes it clear that violence is not justice — it is collapse.

In my view, the film does not say that revenge is the solution. Rather, it points to the possible consequences of the systematic oppression of an individual.

Carrie also has supernatural abilities in the film, specifically telekinesis. When I think about the reasons why I like Chloë Moretz, I wonder whether there is also intention in this aspect. In a way, oppressed individuals may become more aware of systems of oppression for the sake of their own survival; they may learn to read people more accurately and develop an understanding of reality that is inaccessible to anyone except the oppressed themselves. In the film, however, there is something deeper about controlling reality. At the very beginning of the film, Carrie saves herself precisely through this power.

In the context of various societies where systematic oppression, bullying, and isolation exist, Carrie functions as a warning. Chloë Moretz portrays a character who is not a symbol of evil, but a symbol of society’s failure. And perhaps that is why the film provokes such strong emotions — it forces to reflect on where individual responsibility ends and where societal responsibility begins.