Proof of Drugs and Alcohol being Haraam (forbidden) in the Quran 16:08
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some keypoints to note –
In this Lecture proof from the Quran and Sunnah is presented showing total Prohibition on Drugs and Alcohol leaving no argument for Muslims
Smoking the start of problems 21:05
Clarifying the Islamic Prohibition on consuming Intoxicating drugs, their ill effects and how it destroys Islamic character and behavior as well as the prohibition of selling, handling and being involved in Drug supply.
Dangers of steroids 53:12
large parentage of sexual abuse caused because of drugs and alcohol 46:40
Curse of Allah is on the ones who. 30:55
Clarifying the Islamic Prohibition on consuming Intoxicating drugs, their ill effects and how it destroys Islamic character and behavior as well as the prohi…
For the past two months I’ve been doing consistent crunches. Before, if I had to do any exercise that involved balancing on one leg, I would fall out of it within seconds. But after taking months to build the muscles of my core, I can finally hold the position. I can hold myself up.
I’ve been smoking regularly for over half of my life and I’m not in denial about the toll it takes on my lungs, my wallet, my mental health. I know that I’m much more productive without it, that I’m too quick to curl up with it as a way to avoid others, my desires, and my fears.
These rules will last for a time, but soon I’m back to smoking multiple times a day. Going sober is an attempt to eliminate the problem without fixing it: It doesn’t make me a stronger or more balanced person. It doesn’t give me more control over my behavior.
So what’s the crunch for my mind or my heart, to strengthen that core, so I can indulge sometimes, party and get trippy, eat my heart out, drink and sweat and spend, and still be able to return to my baseline? I want my vices to be vacations, wonderful and wild, but then I want to come back to balance. I don’t want to need weed. I also don’t want to need complete sobriety. I want a stronger core.
If smoking is my ritual, then I need other rituals. If smoking is my therapy, I need other therapy—maybe even actual therapy. If smoking is my mood-stabilizing, anti-anxiety medicine, then I need other ways to center, quiet the negative self-talk, worry less, and enjoy more.
At fourteen I took my first hit, lay back, and said, “This is heaven.”
“Everything in moderation, including moderation.” My father said that so much when we were growing up that I thought he, not Oscar Wilde, had coined the phrase. I am not a moderate person, and I have no desire to be. At best, being moderate feels like being average, not sure enough to go one way or another. At worst it feels like diluted truth.
Weed is complicated for me. It has been an escape, a ritual, and a medicine. And it has been a trap, a habit, and a source of pain. I’ve gone from glass bowls and bongs to grape Swisher Sweet blunts to spliffs in RAW papers. I smoke with friends and by myself, while I’m making music and while I’m watching TV. I smoke when I am sad and when I am overjoyed. I smoke a lot. I know I’m too dependent on weed, but I don’t want to quit.
At my fifth grade graduation from the Drug Abuse Resistance Education program, I stepped to the podium sporting a blue button-up shirt, braces, and uneven bangs, and played the flute. I can’t remember exactly how D.A.R.E. had molded me into an eleven-year old who believed that doing drugs was a crime and a sin, but it had succeeded. Some weeks later, I caught my teenage sisters smoking weed behind our back porch during a dinner party. In a brainwashed fervor, I cried and screamed at them, “Well I hope you know you’re going to hell!”
Quitting weed is something I think about a lot but I'm not a moderate person, and I have no desire to be. Maybe I can still achieve moderation.