It starts, as all good stories do, with a headache.
Not just any headache—the kind that makes the world shrink to a pinpoint, where light is the enemy, and the only thing keeping you tethered to existence is the faint hope that relief is out there, waiting.
Susan knew this kind of pain all too well. It had followed her like a shadow since childhood, an unwelcome companion through exams, workdays, and family gatherings. She tried everything: the tiny white pills that promised salvation but delivered only side effects, the ice packs that left her skin numb, the deep-breathing exercises that were supposed to summon inner peace but instead left her dizzy. Nothing worked.
Until she found CBD.
Not in the way you might think—not in a neon-lit shop filled with trend-chasing twenty-somethings, not in a dubious bottle handed over by a friend-of-a-friend who swore it was “the good stuff.” No, Susan found it the way all true believers do: through necessity, curiosity, and a little bit of desperation.
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