Say cannabis and people still roll their eyes. They picture smoke, haze, laziness. Not medicine. Not relief. Not curiosity. Not the quiet exploration of consciousness itself.
That stigma is old. It’s political. And it doesn’t belong in a conversation about ALS or MND, where most of us are just trying to stay comfortable, keep moving, and hold on to what makes life bearable.
The truth is simple: our bodies are wired for this plant. We have an endocannabinoid system built in, receptors waiting for compounds that look exactly like the ones in cannabis. Whether you believe we evolved or were designed that way doesn’t matter. The biology is there.
For many of us living with ALS or MND, every tool that eases pain or quiets the panic matters. Cannabis isn’t a miracle. It’s a collection of molecules that interact with the same systems that keep our bodies balanced, and that’s worth talking about.
Cannabis sativa, the plant at the heart of the discussion.
How cannabis went from medicine to menace
Cannabis wasn’t always the villain. It was medicine, fibre, food. Hemp built ships and clothed armies. Then power got involved.
In the early 1900s, hemp threatened the cotton growers, timber barons, and new chemical companies like DuPont. It was cheap, renewable, and hard to control. So they buried it with politics and fear.
Harry Anslinger led the charge. He built a career on panic, linking cannabis to crime, insanity, and race. Newspapers amplified it. “Reefer Madness” sold the story. By 1937, the Marihuana Tax Act made both hemp and cannabis effectively illegal.
The same plant that once powered industry and eased pain was erased by greed and propaganda.
For a deeper look, see The Illegalization of Marijuana: A Brief History – Origins*.
The stigma stuck.
But stigma belongs on abuse, not on thoughtful medical use or even mindful recreation. Anything at its extremes can be bad. Sugar. Alcohol. Gambling. Even work. Cannabis belongs in that same category: risky if abused, potentially life-changing if used with care.
Harm to self, harm to others
If we’re going to judge substances, let’s use logic. In 2010, Professor David Nutt and colleagues published a landmark study. They mapped drugs on two axes: harm to the user and harm to others.
The results were clear:
- Alcohol ranked highest overall for harm.
- Cannabis was far lower, both to self and others.
Here’s the original study.
Chart comparing self and social harm across substances, adapted from Nutt et al., 2010.
The chart only measures harm, not benefit. That’s important. Alcohol and tobacco can create moments of pleasure or escape, but they offer no real health value. Cannabis, on the other hand, shows potential for reducing pain, spasticity, anxiety, and inflammation. If the study also accounted for positive outcomes, cannabis would likely sit even lower on the harm scale.
It’s strange that we accept the substance that harms most and punish the one that might help.
The logic is backward.
Access and the social shift
Access depends on where you live. Some doctors support it, some don’t. Some countries or states allow it, others make you jump through hoops.
But things are changing. The stigma is fading. Cannabis is creeping out of the shadows.
In the United States, public opinion has flipped completely. In 1969, only 12% of Americans supported legalising marijuana. Today, that number has climbed to 70%, according to a Gallup poll. The trend says it all.
Support for legal cannabis has reached record highs, climbing steadily since 1969.
Australia’s medical access has improved, but it still trails behind countries like Canada and Israel, where cannabis is integrated into care plans and studied more openly. As the stigma fades, regulation will hopefully follow.
I’ll be honest. I’m anti-authoritarian by nature. I believe people should be trusted to make their own decisions. Not every drug should be legal and open to all, but logic should rule what is.
If cannabis causes less harm than alcohol, why is one sold on every corner and the other locked behind stigma and paperwork?
It’s a fair question. And for people living with ALS, where options are scarce, it’s a question that deserves a real answer.
As I wrote in I can’t cure ALS, but these things help me fight it, access means agency, and cannabis is one of the few options that can restore a sense of it.
As society shifts, cannabis research has exploded, especially over the past twenty years. The next step is making sure that momentum reaches ALS and MND, where the need is greatest.
Publications mentioning cannabis have surged over the past two decades.
The science and what we know so far
ALS is an energy crisis disguised as a motor neuron disease. Neurons starve, inflammation burns, muscles lock up.
Cannabinoids interact with those same pathways. They bind to CB1 and CB2 receptors, helping to calm overactive nerve signals and reduce inflammation. They can also limit glutamate toxicity, a known driver of neuron death. Animal studies suggest neuroprotective effects, with cannabinoids delaying symptom onset and improving motor function in ALS mouse models.
Recent research also points to deeper mechanisms. Cannabinoids appear to regulate mitochondrial calcium balance and influence apoptosis, the process of programmed cell death. In simple terms, they may help protect neurons from metabolic overload. Some studies even suggest anti-inflammatory effects within skeletal muscle itself, not just the nervous system.
ALSUntangled, which reviews off-label treatments, called cannabis “plausible, safe, and worth further study.” But they’re honest that the evidence isn’t strong yet.
Not all cannabinoids work the same way. CBD calms anxiety and muscle tension without intoxication. THC tends to affect both the body and mind, offering stronger relief from pain and sleep disturbance, but it can also alter focus, coordination, or mood depending on the dose and the person. CBG supports focus and muscle relaxation. CBC has mild mood-lifting and anti-inflammatory effects. CBN is often used for sleep and recovery.
Together, these compounds create what researchers call the entourage effect, where cannabinoids work better in combination than alone. That is why many people prefer broad-spectrum oils over single-molecule CBD. They offer a more balanced and consistent effect across symptoms like spasticity, pain, and sleep disruption.
Because people experience MND differently, there is no single formula. Some live with severe pain or muscle stiffness, while others barely feel either. What helps can depend on the stage of disease and other health issues happening alongside it.
It’s important to acknowledge the risks, particularly with THC. At higher doses, THC can cause drowsiness, dizziness, or disorientation. It may lower blood pressure or cause light-headedness when standing, and in some cases trigger anxiety or paranoia. These effects vary widely between individuals, and tolerance can build over time. Careful dosing, especially at the beginning, matters.
Here’s what we do know from human data:
- A phase 2 trial of nabiximols (a balanced THC:CBD spray) showed reduced spasticity in people with motor neuron disease and good safety (study link).
- Real-world studies echo the same: less stiffness, less pain, better sleep, better mood.
- The EMERALD trial, testing pure CBD oil for ALS progression, began in Australia in 2019. As of 2023, just over half of the planned participants had been recruited, and no results or updates have been published to date.
It’s a familiar story. The science moves slowly. Sometimes too slowly for the people it’s supposed to help. That’s why so many of us living with ALS don’t wait for perfect data before we act. We read, we test, we track. Because the system is cautious by design, and time isn’t on our side.
Despite the promise, cannabis is still used by only a fraction of people with ALS. One study found just 28 out of 129 participants had tried it (study link). That’s a small number, especially given the benefits described in the same paper, including reduced spasticity, pain relief, better sleep, and improved mood. It feels like something more people could benefit from if they were willing to try it, perhaps even replacing several other drugs now used to manage those same symptoms.
So far, the story is this:
Cannabis may not stop ALS, but it can make living with it easier.
What’s missing are large, well-controlled trials that compare different THC:CBD ratios, test long-term safety, and look at outcomes by disease stage and subtype so we can move from plausible biology to practical guidance.
My experience
My only experience with cannabis before ALS was a muffin in Amsterdam, as you do when in Rome. I didn’t mind it, but it wasn’t something I felt drawn to do again.
My next encounter came after diagnosis. I started reading, researching, and combing through ALS forums for anything that might help. That’s when cannabis appeared again, not as recreation but as relief.
I began with a CBD oil and THC gummies. The first oil I tried was pure CBD. Later, I switched to Humacology White during the day and Humacology Black at night. Both are broad-spectrum CBD oils that include CBG, CBC, and CBN in different ratios. The White blend is lighter and helps with focus and calm through the day. The Black blend is heavier and promotes deeper sleep and muscle recovery.
The change was immediate. Within a day, my anxiety melted away. Before that, nights were filled with spirals, thoughts about the disease, my future, what it meant for my wife and me. CBD quieted all of that without blunting my mind.
The improvements in spasticity and cramping took longer. It can take weeks, sometimes months, for CBD to build up in your system enough to ease those symptoms. The mental calm comes first, the physical relief tends to follow.
I used the THC gummies occasionally when sleep was hard or pain flared after a fall. They helped, but I haven’t needed them for months.
The last time I used one, though, I overdid it. I spent five hours stuck on the couch, unable to move. My balance was already off from ALS, and the spinning head that followed made it impossible to stand or walk safely. It was a good reminder that THC isn’t one-size-fits-all. Start small. Cut gummies in half. Use lower-dose products if you need to. The goal isn’t to be high; it’s to be comfortable.
Recently, I paused most of my supplements for a microbiome test and stopped the CBD oil too, just to see what would happen. I didn’t make it twenty-four hours. That night, my legs cramped and shook like they hadn’t in nearly a year.
It confirmed what I already knew. The oil was doing something real.
For me, CBD works far better than baclofen ever did. Baclofen built up in my system and left me groggy and heavy. CBD doesn’t. I feel clear-headed, steady, and more present, maybe even sharper thanks to the ketogenic diet and other efforts to improve my metabolic health.
This isn’t about chasing a high. It’s about reclaiming a small sense of control in a disease that takes so much of it away.
Stories that matter
Statistics are one thing. Stories are another.
One of the most powerful comes from Cathy Jordan, diagnosed with ALS in 1986. She became the face of medical cannabis advocacy in Florida. Cathy credited cannabis with helping her sleep, eat, and breathe more easily, and lived for nearly forty years after diagnosis. She passed away in 2024 at 74. You can read her story here: Cathy Jordan, patron saint of medical cannabis in Florida.
Two others, Angelina Fanous and Steve Saling, have shared similar stories. In interviews with ALS.net, both described using cannabis to manage symptoms. Angelina spoke about how it helped ease anxiety and muscle tension. Steve, a long-term survivor and advocate for assistive living technologies, said it helped him relax and sleep, something traditional medicine rarely achieved.
And those aren’t isolated cases. Across forums and social media, people with ALS share similar experiences: less stiffness, fewer cramps, better sleep, and a little more calm in their day.
Anecdotes aren’t proof. But they’re signals. They show where relief is already being found, and where the science needs to catch up.
What to try, if you try
- Start with purpose. What are you trying to fix? Spasticity, sleep, anxiety, pain?
- Start low, go slow. It’s a cliché for a reason.
- CBD-heavy products tend to calm anxiety and ease cramps.
- THC:CBD balance can help with stiffness, but it can fog cognition, so test timing and dose.
- Check legality. Access, quality, and price vary wildly by region.
- Track what you take. Record doses, timing, and effects. Data is power.
Tracking what I take and how it affects me has become incredibly important. It’s part of what led me to create StackDat, a way to see what’s working and what isn’t (Have you heard of ALS?).
The honest take
Cannabis will not cure ALS. But it can ease the fight. It can make nights quieter. It can calm the panic. It can help relax the muscles and ease the pain of the cramps that sometimes take hold. It can help you breathe a little easier.
The risk is low. The stigma is fading, but still too high.
Sometimes progress starts with permission to explore, to learn, to feel better. Other times it starts without permission at all, guided only by your own judgment and what feels right for your body.
