The cannabis industry has come a long way in normalizing the plant as medicine. And while cannabis has transformed lives—including my own—it’s time we stop pretending it’s universally safe. For people with brain disorders, psychiatric conditions, or neurological diseases, certain types of cannabis—particularly high-THC products—can be dangerous, even devastating.

This is an unpopular opinion, especially in a culture that celebrates THC percentages like proof on a bottle of whiskey. But I believe we have an obligation to face the truth: not all cannabis is good cannabis, and for some of us, it can be harmful.

My Story: Epilepsy, Fear, and the “Scary High”

Before I was properly diagnosed, I lived in fear. I have three forms of epilepsy—one of which affects how the brain pieces together reality. Without treatment, I experienced terrifying sensory episodes, tremors, and confusion so profound I couldn’t recognize people unless they were close friends. My vision shook under light. My body felt foreign. I wasn’t just sick—I felt like I was dying. Worse, I wanted to die if we couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

After treatment with anticonvulsants, things changed dramatically. The seizures subsided. My muscles—constantly locked in resistance—began to relax. My eyes stopped shaking. For the first time, I could recognize hunger and thirst, go to the bathroom without fear, and experience joy. I finally knew what a regulated nervous system felt like.

But even with these medical advancements, cannabis remained a minefield.

When I tried certain rosin strains—especially pineapple strains and heavy sativas—I didn’t feel creative or inspired. I’m already creative enough, thanks to epilepsy’s effect on my brain. These strains didn’t enhance that—they pushed it into overdrive. They made me too creative in the worst way: anxious, overstimulated, and mentally scattered. My thoughts raced, my sensory system overloaded, and my reality became distorted. That’s not therapeutic—that’s terrifying. What actually works for me is balanced hybrids during the day and heavier indicas at night. It’s a rhythm that keeps my nervous system stable and allows cannabis to be medicine, not a risk.

The Science Backs It Up: High-THC and Psychosis

This isn’t just anecdotal. There is a growing body of scientific evidence showing that high-THC cannabis can trigger psychiatric episodes, especially in individuals with preexisting conditions:

• A 2019 Lancet Psychiatry study found that daily use of high-potency cannabis increased the odds of developing psychotic disorders fivefold in some regions.
• A review in Nature Mental Health reported that up to 20% of cannabis users experience acute psychotic symptoms, more often linked to high-THC strains.
• The National Academies of Sciences concluded there is “substantial evidence” linking heavy cannabis use with the onset of schizophrenia and other chronic psychiatric illnesses.

The risks aren’t theoretical—they are real. And people like me are the canaries in the coal mine.

What Helps: CBD, Melatonin, and Precision

In contrast, CBD has been a lifesaver. I take it daily, especially at night with melatonin. For epileptics, melatonin is critical—our sleep cycles directly affect seizure control. The CBD helps manage anxiety, sensory sensitivity, and neurological stress throughout the day. Numerous studies support this: CBD has been shown to reduce seizure frequency, improve mood, and protect the brain from overexcitation.

Notably, solventless extracts, such as clean rosin, offer significantly better outcomes for people like me than solvent-based THC products. They are more predictable, more transparent, and gentler on an already sensitive brain.

The Industry’s Responsibility: Stop Prioritizing Potency Over People

It’s time we start asking: who is cannabis being designed for?

When the market is saturated with products that brag about 90% THC content, mystery edibles with no dosage control, and sativa carts with no terpene transparency, it sends the message that potency is more important than wellness.

For people with brain disorders—epilepsy, schizophrenia, PTSD, autism, even anxiety—this obsession with THC can be catastrophic. Communities should be self-policing. We should not stock products from the black market or from companies that don’t disclose extraction methods or dose responsibly.

I believe in cannabis. I’ve seen it heal. But I also believe in honesty. And honesty means admitting that some products hurt people.

Final Word: People Are Sick—and Deserve Better

As someone living with chronic epilepsy and running a business that serves people seeking relief, I feel a deep responsibility to educate. I warn my clients—especially those with neurological or psychiatric conditions—about the dangers of high-THC products made with solvent-based extraction. These products may be profitable, but they are not always safe.

The brain is the most important organ in the body—and some of the sickest people are those with brain-based illnesses. They deserve cannabis that helps, not harms.

Even when truth disrupts retail, we must adapt. If disruption leads to better outcomes, cleaner medicine, and real relief, then the cost is worth it.

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t just about cannabis. It’s about care.