One of us wrote it. The other built it.

Two or three years after he stopped, he and his friend Adrienne built an online support network for people trying to do the same, and the in-person Clearhead workshops grew out of that. Adrienne has since died, and the book is dedicated to her.

The Quit Cannabis Handbook came out of those rooms. Much of it, in his words, came directly from listening to the people in them. He later worked with psychotherapist Angela Jullings to record the hour of hypnotherapy that's in the app, and still uses it himself when he can't sleep.

Before any of it, he used weed every day for more than thirty years. He is not a doctor and doesn't pretend to be one.

I've spent nearly a decade designing mental health products used by more than a hundred million people, and now work in clinical intelligence and AI. Most of that work was about the same thing: making something you'll actually open on a bad day, rather than something that looks good in a screenshot.

I took this on because Clearhead's programme says something most quit apps miss. After twenty years, nobody is smoking for fun. They're smoking so they don't have to feel something. That deserves a companion you can talk to at midnight, not a streak you can break.

The app is the book, turned into something you can carry. The idea underneath it: for people who've used every day for years, the hold is mostly emotional. You reach for it to wake up, to get to sleep, and to avoid feeling bored, anxious, angry or sad. That's why willpower alone keeps failing.

The method runs in stages. Preparation: why you want this, a date within the week, one person told, and a practice run at wanting without having. Adjustment: the first day and the weeks after. Withdrawal: what to expect, and how long each part lasts. Emotions: the feelings that come back, and how to sit with them. Recovery: who you are without it. Quit or take a break, it stays your choice throughout.