Friday, July 30, 2010
I have smoked since I was 16, the sweet Virgina Albatross around my neck has been with me in some way on and off mostly on for now almost as long as some of my friends have been alive. I did not grow up thinking I would be a slave to this and that is even when you were not a social leper for smoking, nope I hated them when I was young.
Both my parents smoked, and they did it a lot, my dad smoked really light cigarettes and my mum really heavy ones, they both eventually quit growing tired of them and poof just quit. Me it is another story.
In some ways the cigarette has been my Smokey binky for years a nicotine filled pacifier fed to me graciously by farmers from the southern US and lobbyists in DC. I used to enjoy them, love them, they were my best friend, a companion that never let me down, took care of me when I was stressed and was always there, always. It is first and foremost an addiction one that if you never had you really will have a hard time getting your fresh aired head around.
I will give you and idea how bad this addiction really is. I am a educated, well raised if somewhat yes gutter minded man. But still I am was raised well. So why is it that when I have been out of smokes and poor did I scavenge other peoples butts off the sidewalk for me to get my fix. I have never eaten out of a trash can, nor done anything for any other addiction. Yet these little white straws of pleasure will make me do things that I normally would find repulsive.
When I entered hospital last month my Dr. who was very very anti me or anyone puffing the paper dick convinced me to try and quit. I have been on the patch, gum, lozenges for about a month now and have done pretty damn well. I was a pack to two pack a day smoker, in the last month I have smoked 10 maybe 15 cigarettes. It really is a miracle, because as friends can attest I get a little homicidal when I need my albatross back around my neck and to this day no emotional body count.
I want to quit I am tired of it, and yes I still feel the draw of my old Virgina farmer who yells in my damaged mind, "Steve I am your friend, fuck them all, I make you feel OK". I am out of hospital and not fully back to where I want to be emotionally, and when I am stressed, sad, fuck in any emotional state other than happy I crave a smoke. I had one this morning, and felt dirty, felt like I let myself and my friends down.
I will tweet my daily cave ins as transparency for me is important in quiting, and I hate to fail. This is one of the hardest things I have ever done, seriously it is hard. I am dedicated to this now. I may fall down a lot but I am me and that is par for the course.