Kevin Kimmell Design

Chapter 2: A Manic Episode and Reevaluating Life

Thu, 09 Jul 2026 14:09:15 GMT

The first semester of my freshman year took an unexpected turn when I experienced a manic episode.

The transition from the laid-back, sun-soaked lifestyle of Hawaii to the fast-paced city life of Denver was jarring. I went from island time, where the days revolved around beaches, sunsets, and a slow rhythm, to the concrete jungle, where my dorm overlooked a sea of buildings. The shift in energy was exhilarating at first - new city, new people, new opportunities. I thrived in the excitement, but that excitement quickly spiraled out of control.

What started as skipping a class here and there turned into missing half the semester. I was constantly on the move, meeting new people, chasing grandiose ideas, and riding an overwhelming wave of euphoria. The city’s energy fed my own, and before I knew it, I was partying excessively, drinking heavily, and letting my health deteriorate. The optimism I felt was intoxicating, but it was also delusional.

This manic high lasted about two months before it all came crashing down. One morning, still drunk from the night before, I answered a phone call in the campus cafeteria with a loud, “Dude, what the FUCK is up?!” That moment of reckless excitement was enough to draw the attention of a student housing manager, and soon, a cop was standing over my shoulder. I was arrested for disturbing the peace and spent the weekend in jail.

By this point, my parents knew something was seriously wrong. My mom, still in Hawaii, sensed the change in me and immediately flew to Denver. Within twenty minutes of seeing me, she made the decision to take me to the hospital.

I was lost in my own world but trusted my mom enough to follow her lead. In the hospital, I remember explaining to the nurse that I was absorbing energy from the electrons in the lights. I told them I didn’t need to sleep as long as I had light, and I dressed in colors that resonated with me—red, yellow, and green. It was during this hospital stay that I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and placed in a psych ward for 72 hours.

When I was released, all I could think about was smoking cannabis. But without an income or access, I had to go without it for the first time in years. The absence of cannabis, combined with my deteriorating mental state, sent me into a deep depression. I turned to alcohol for relief, but it only made things worse. Over the next three months, I gained 100 pounds and fell into the worst shape of my life. My family and I were at a loss, we didn’t know what I needed to get better.

Then, an opportunity arose: a chance to return to Hawaii to work and recover. It felt like a lifeline, an opportunity to reset in a familiar environment. But recovery was not immediate.

Even in paradise, I felt empty. I could see the beauty around me—the ocean, the sunsets, the vibrant life—but I couldn’t feel it. My emotions were numb, my thoughts a blur of despair. I had lost everything: my friends, my college experience, my independence. Time felt stagnant, and I was trapped in a meaningless void.

One day, while standing under the showerhead, something shifted. I started breathing rhythmically, letting the hot water cascade over me, fully immersing myself in the sensation. In that moment, I had an out-of-body experience—I could feel my breath, the water, and, most importantly, a sense of life returning to me. Something changed inside me that day, and from then on, I slowly started to recover.

A pivotal moment in my journey came when I met a doctor who explained bipolar disorder from a neurological perspective. She sketched a diagram illustrating how nerve signals misfire, leading to extreme mood swings. For the first time, someone had broken it down in a way that truly clicked. Unlike other doctors who simply assigned me a diagnosis, she helped me see what was actually happening in my brain.

She prescribed Lamotrigine, a mood stabilizer, and Lithium, which slows down electrical connections in the brain. The medications helped, but something still felt off—just like the pills I had taken in childhood, they felt like a band-aid rather than a solution.

Aside from pharmaceuticals and the healing environment of Hawaii, four things played a major role in my recovery: a good job, supportive family, cannabis and exercise. I reconnected with old friends who helped me gain access to cannabis again, and I started the P90X workout program. Working out six days a week, I began to feel alive again.

My routine became simple but effective: P90X in the morning, construction work in the heat of the day, and surfing until dusk. Over the next six months, I lost 80 pounds and felt more functional than I had in over a year. When the opportunity came to return to college, I hesitated. But I knew I had to keep moving forward. So, once again, I left Hawaii for Denver.

Back in school, I had a better grasp on my mental health. Cannabis was still difficult to access at around $20 per gram, it wasn’t something I could afford regularly as a college student. It wasn’t legal yet, nor widely accepted as medicinal, but I found ways to get it.

Meanwhile, the cannabis culture in Colorado was evolving. By the late 2000s, the medical cannabis market was expanding, and high-quality strains once just “chronic” were now labeled “medical.” Excitement filled the air. The industry was shifting, and I could feel something big was coming.

In 2014, everything changed. Medical cannabis was legalized in Colorado, and suddenly, the industry exploded. What had once been an underground market became legitimized. For the first time, cannabis was being recognized as a real medicine.

I spent the next few years in Denver, balancing school, work, and my growing appreciation for cannabis. I smoked the best “medical” strains I could find, fascinated by how they affected my mind and body. The culture was evolving rapidly, and I knew it would never be the same once it hit the mainstream.

Looking back, my journey through mania, depression, and recovery was a turning point in my life. It forced me to reevaluate everything: my health, my habits, and my relationship with cannabis. What started as a chaotic, painful experience eventually became the foundation for a new perspective - one that would shape my path forward in ways I never could have imagined.

Maybe Medicine: The beginning of how Cannabis Transformed My Life

Thu, 11 Dec 2025 13:49:50 GMT

I’ll never forget my first time smoking. It was a wonderful experience. It unlocked a new side of me and a new side of life that was lighter, easier and more fun. From that very first time, I could feel that cannabis was working as medicine for me, especially when the high wore off. I was left in a blissful, relaxed state.

The high itself came with some anxiety and a flood of thoughts, but that in itself became a kind of training. It built a mental fortitude for high-pressure situations. From ages 14 to 19, I’d walk into class high as hell, heart pounding, trying to act normal. I learned to manage my nerves, to control my thoughts in a way that felt almost like exposure therapy. Over time, I became less anxious—not just while high, but in my everyday life. My mind was being stretched in new directions, and I loved it.

Cannabis was doing wonders for me internally. I was entertained by things that used to bore me, I felt more in tune with my thoughts, and most importantly, I was calm . So why wouldn’t I keep using it?

The problem was and still is highly psychoactive cannabis is the only form available. I was far too young to be using traditional cannabis with any significant amount of Delta-9-THC. Knowledge about cannabinoids that don’t make you feel high, but can help with focus, mood or sleep) like CBD or the numerous other cannabinoids wasn’t around yet. Had non-psychotropic options been available, my entire life might have taken a different course.

Life Before Ganja

My early childhood is a blur of love and laughter. Life was simple, full of adventure, and my mind was free. But things changed mentally after a vacation.

I was eight years old when my family took a trip to Orlando, Florida. It was my first time experiencing warm nights, palm trees, and geckos darting around in the humid air. Disney World was fun, but what stuck with me most was stepping outside at 9 p.m. into the thick, tropical heat and staring up at a 50-foot palm tree in amazement. As a kid from Colorado, Florida was like another planet.

When we got back home, I just… couldn’t mentally return. My mind was stuck in Florida. I found myself lost in thought, daydreaming about the trip, the heat, the palm trees. Teachers would snap me back to reality, reprimanding me for staring off into space. But I couldn’t help it, I was somewhere else .

I wasn’t doing my schoolwork, and teachers started to worry. My third-grade teacher, Mrs. Schaefer, was a stone-cold bitch. I can still see her walking the hallways, arms crossed, eyes looking down. She had that aura - just one of those people who never seemed happy, never smiled. She isolated me, putting my desk in the back of the classroom, surrounded by walls. Then, my parents were handed a newspaper article about Attention Deficit Disorder.

At eight years old, I was being told there was something wrong with me. I didn’t understand it. Was I different? Broken?

Athletically, I was at the top of my class. But mentally, I was sent to “special” classes. That stuck with me. I still feel like an outcast sometimes, like I see the world a little differently than most people. Being told I had a disorder at that age was like being told, I know you better than you know yourself .

I still say; fuck that.

The Pill

This is where my awareness of mental health and my introduction to pharmaceuticals began.

My doctor was my first drug dealer.

My parents did everything they could to avoid pharmaceuticals. We tried EEG brainwave therapy, massages, and herbal remedies. But nothing seemed to work. And cannabinoids? They weren’t even part of the conversation. Even the natural practitioners we visited had no idea how cannabis might help.

After about a year of trying different things, we gave in. “The pill” was Concerta, a stimulant similar to Ritalin. At first, it seemed to help. I got more schoolwork done, and my parents encouraged me to stick with it. I called it my control pill . Looking back, that’s funny considering what we now know about Big Pharma. But at the time, I felt controlled. I hated it. I wanted to think like myself, to feel like myself, but I had to take this pill to be “normal.”I started skipping doses just to see how I felt without it. I realized how much it was altering my mind, and I didn’t like it. The more I experimented, the more I understood—I didn’t need this medication. I needed something different.

A Change in Medication

Everything changed when I found cannabis.

By this time, I already understood that taking something could change the way you feel. So when my friend Dusty and I smoked in that drainage ditch, I was curious. A week later, I was offered some again—this time, at school.

At first, getting high at school was terrifying. I was sweating, anxious, convinced teachers had to know. But after a while, I realized… they didn’t. As long as I acted normal, no one questioned me. And just like that, I learned how to control anxiety at a young age . Puberty was hitting, social dynamics were shifting, and social media was beginning to take hold of our generation. I was navigating all of this while self-medicating with cannabis. It was an experiment in real-time.

By sophomore year, I was buying regularly. I had completely stopped taking the pill. I’d smoke every morning before school, then again at lunch, then at night. It felt like I had finally found a rhythm that worked . Smoking also became the core of my friendships. If we weren’t at a party, we were smoking. The people with the weed naturally became social leaders, deciding when and where we gathered. We hid in alleyways, friend’s backyards, and, once we had cars, parked in lots or scenic spots. The ritual of the smoke session was sacred. Afterward, there was always the mission for food—gas station snacks, fast food, whatever we could get our hands on. Laughing, stumbling through convenience stores, it was all part of the adventure.

The Busts and the Lessons

Of course, my parents caught on. They were furious every time I got busted. They’d sit me down, lay out all the evidence on the table, and lecture me about how I’d never get anywhere in life if I kept this up.

That put a huge chip on my shoulder.

I wanted to prove them wrong. To prove the world wrong. The stoner stereotype was bullshit, and I was determined to show that cannabis didn’t have to make you lazy or unmotivated. But there was still the reality of getting caught by the law this time. After the third or fourth time, my parents put me in an outpatient rehab program. It was overkill. I sat in meetings with kids who were in actual trouble—some had serious addiction issues, and there I was, just smoking weed.

I had to call a phone line every morning for randomized drug tests. I hated it. But looking back, it did teach me something—cannabis is powerful . It is a drug, and like anything that alters your mind, it needs to be treated with respect.

Eventually, they pulled me from the program. The drug tests continued, but as soon as I was trusted again… I went right back to smoking.

Cannabis gave me something that nothing else did—relief. It opened my mind, reduced my anxiety, and connected me with people from all walks of life. I still believe that cannabis isn’t just a recreational substance. It’s medicine. It was medicine for me back then, and it’s medicine for millions of people now.

And my journey with it? This was only the beginning.

Everyone told me cannabis would ruin my life. It built my career instead.

Fri, 17 Oct 2025 13:12:13 GMT

Shortly after discovering cannabis, I was told I would not be able to achieve success in life if I kept smoking it.

My parents, family, and friends along with multiple therapists, psychologists and psychiatrists told me I had to stop, otherwise I’d be dependent on the substance and a subsequently failure in life. My world’s outlook on a healthy, functional successful life that includes cannabis use was bleak, to say the least.

That put a HUGE chip on my shoulder, because I felt much differently. I kept thinking, as long as I can stay vigilant and not let cannabis take away my energy or make me lazy, I’ll be doing great.

When I used cannabis, I felt empowered and I felt this "flow state" mostly after the initial high wore off. I’ll never forget the first time I felt this full flow - it was in gym class while playing badminton. I smacked the shuttlecock while jumping and turning a full 360, fully coordinated with an understanding of my surroundings like I had never felt before.

It felt like my body was finally in sync and communicating with itself. Like my nervous system and brain were connected in an almost superhuman way.

I kept noticing instances like this where a connected, flow-like state just takes over. So I kept using it regardless of what anyone told me. Over the next 15 years I would continue using it daily while also studying art, design and marketing.

Turns out, it helped me tremendously with all three arenas: the alternative thought patterns and ideas helped my artwork. The critical thinking of design is made just a little easier and more exciting vs daunting. Through smoke sessions, I met people from all walks of life and I got to understand their perspectives.

I started to truly believe in cannabis as a tool. So much so that when the chance presented itself for a full time job in the industry, I decided to drop out of college to pursue a career along side the plant. This decision would spark a series of events that took me full circle ten years later when I landed a position very similar to the one I dropped out of school for.

Now, I find flow through design, writing and other artistic creations at this job. I stay busy enough to stay in a continual flow state more often than not. If I’m not working, I’m thinking and working through concepts. I’m constantly looking for clues and indulging in a cannabis-friendly lifestyle, extending the culture to my surroundings and the community at large. I’m in a continual state of coexistence with cannabis, society, art and design.

The Green Path is the story of how I got here and how cannabis empowered my mind and body along the way.

A Little More About This Project:

This is no traditional memoir. I have no interest or patience in telling you all about sentimental moments of my past and how much they meant to me.

This isn’t advice either. I don’t aim to tell you how to live or what to do. This is an approach.

I am to share insights from fun and meaningful stories from my journey in becoming a professional in cannabis, while smoking cannabis.

How This Could Benefit You:

In what follows, I will share my story and tactics on how to use cannabis products in a healthy and sustainable way. I'll focus on how I’ve managed to break the "stoner" stigma while building a professional career centered around this plant.

While science supports my claims, this is not meant to be an academic research paper. It’s more like a reference model for how to integrate cannabis into daily life. You’ll find wisdom and practical advice front and center as I explain the effects of different products and the science of these products through my own stories.

Basic facts on cannabis can be found all over the internet. What I offer is a synthesis of the most recent science combined with my first-hand experiences with using cannabis products.

Anything wise you hear, credit to the rebels and scientists who paved the way. Anything foolish, assume it is my error. My contribution, I hope, is to inform the masses with a new perspective on the old ganja plant.

I will highlight the functionality of compounds that come from the plant and how to integrate these into one’s life in a both healthy, fulfilling, but also an exciting way. I will also uncover and explore entirely new ways to think about cannabis. I aim to introduce these ideas in a way that is also highly actionable.

I believe cannabis compounds can be a healthy alternative to both prescription drugs and alcohol. Perhaps the most exciting part is that there are cannabinoids that can work for both recreation and medicine.

Core Focus Areas:

Cannabis can provide a balanced lifestyle when use of it based on the four most impactful elements of health - mental health, sleep, exercise, and diet. I bring my first-hand experience with using cannabis to benefit each of these four areas.

Within a span of 10 years, I went from a dysfunctional, overweight bipolar disorder patient to being led on a path of discovery to regain my health and achieve one of my biggest goals - a stable job in the cannabis industry.

While there is a ton of great work being done on the science and manufacturing of cannabis products, there is currently a lack of educational resources to teach the public how to use them. In recent years, researchers and scientists have discovered the connection between good health and the compounds that come from cannabis. Some of this research too will be covered here.

In total, the framework I offer is an integrated model of how to use cannabinoids for specific purposes. I believe it is one of the first models of using cannabis product taking into account for the effects of individual cannabinoids to help with specific daily challenges. While some of the stories may be familiar, I’m confident that the details and application of cannabinoids can change people’s lives for the better. I’ve seen it for myself and for those who I’ve helped.

Our lives and health are always changing - but The Green Path is about what doesn’t change: using the cannabis plant to empower our health.

This writing is about the fundamentals of using cannabis products for wellness. I’ll talk about my experience and how it has helped me overcome mental challenges as well as its impact on my own diet, nutrition, exercise and sleep. This seems like a far reach for the plant, but when used correctly, it can have unique effects on each of these areas of life.

The ideas that follow will almost certainly shake up your truth about cannabis and will show you what it can do to seriously make your life better, and not just make you a stoner.

If you or anyone you know is curious about cannabis, always feel free to reach out to me. I'm happy to help.

kk@kevinkimmell.design

All the best,

Kev

The Green Path: Cannabis, Creativity, and Living With Intention

Tue, 12 Aug 2025 20:29:30 GMT

For me, cannabis has always been more than just “getting high.”

It started that way, but over the years, I started paying closer attention. At a young age, I was diagnosed with ADD and later on Bipolar Disorder. For years, I took prescription meds to manage the symptoms. They helped in some ways, but they also left me feeling flat, disconnected, and not fully myself. Eventually, I made the choice to replace them with cannabis, not recklessly, but with intention and self-awareness.

That decision didn’t just change my health. It changed the course of my life. After four years of studying design, I dropped out of school to start a cannabis lab with my roommate, who was in school to be a chemist. We were experimenting, learning, and creating a brand/lab from scratch, really trying to understand this plant on a deeper level. That all fell apart and I had to really find who I was and what I wanted to do with this industry, and now my life.

That’s when I realized cannabis wasn’t just part of my lifestyle, it was my path. It was empowering me to discover a new way. Over the years, I worked on consciously using the plant and started to notice benefits to my health and wellness in ways no one could have predicted. I saw how it helped adjust my focus, heighten my mood, and deepen my meditation practice.

When I started consciously using cannabis, my life shifted in powerful ways.

Eventually, I found myself working with chemists, product developers, and connecting the dots between what the science says and what actually happens in real life. That’s when I realized I had been walking what I now call The Green Path; using cannabis intentionally as part of a bigger lifestyle built around creativity, health, and purpose.

Why I Call it The Green Path

The Green Path is where I bring my experience all together: the plant, the science, the design, the storytelling.

I am currently a B2B marketing strategist at Arvida Labs, helping brands bring smart, compliant cannabinoid products to market. Before that, I spent years as a freelance graphic designer and brand strategist for tech and wellness startups, learning how to make complex ideas simple, useful, and exciting.

Now, I am using that same skill set to help people and brands understand cannabis on a deeper level, from how rare cannabinoids like THCp, THCh, and THCv actually feel to how cannabis as a whole can fit into a more intentional, creative lifestyle. It takes awareness of yourself and your surroundings to be able to truly use cannabis for wellness. The lifestyle itself is a winding path

What You’ll Get Here

Real-world insights on cannabinoids, cannabis products and how they actually affect people.
Insights on using cannabis to spark creativity, focus, and mindfulness.
Straightforward guidance for choosing products that fit your vibe and goals.
Stories that connect the science to everyday life.

Some posts will get nerdy. Others will feel like swapping stories over coffee or a joint. Either way, everything here is rooted in one simple idea: cannabis works best when you use it with curiosity and intention.

If you are ready to see cannabis in a new light, not just as a habit but as a tool for living and creating, welcome.

Follow along The Green Path with me. ��

All the best,

Kev