Right after getting the news that my Mother finally suicided (she had tried many times before), a speed freak acquaintance came by to sell me a bag of Columbian. She took one look at me and handed me the baggie saying, "Pay me when you can" and left (hey, that's showing great compassion for a speed freak). The pot didn't stop me crying, but it eased the pain a bit. It helped get me through the worst of it.