I feel as though I am starting all over again. With this recovery thing. I mean, no, I didn’t relapse, and no I didn’t go out and have meaningless sex with as many people as humanly possible (seeing as how I’ve already done that and it took over 12 years I don’t think I could manage a relapse of that magnitude in the past 48…since my last post), but I am starting from scratch. From the very beginning. I’ve. Quit. Smoking.
I feel like crying. I feel like punching people in the face. E-Deezy, who also quit within the past two weeks put it best when he said “I want to punch kittens in the face.” I understand that kind of sentiment. But I want to punch them and then smoke them. In a cigarette. And while I’ve quit smoking before, for over a year, I smoked pot, wrapped up in blunts, so the simple action of smoking was still a constant in my life. But this time? No. Nada. I’m using the patch, as it worked for me last time, and chewing gum and straws like I’m getting paid to do it, but I feel as though I’m grieving the loss of something. An identity I created around smoking. As if my best friend has just died, and I’ve no one to turn to so I take to cleaning my home of all things that remind me of him. Gone are the ashtrays. Goodbye corners with any traces of ash. Fabreeeeze everywhere, compulsive spraying of the bottle, even just in passing. My sense of smell has yet to return, but it will. And I want everything around me to smell fresh and wonderful when it does.
In fact, smell is a huge reason as to why I’ve quit. I want to smell pretty. I want to be the girl that walks by and turns head because she smells sweet, like flowers or honey. I want to smell my dinner before I eat it, I want to taste it. I want to smell cookies in ovens, and rosebushes and grass. I want my hair to smell like vanilla, and I want to know exactly what it is vanilla smells like. As of now, a smell must be so pungent it’s overwhelming, and only then can it begin to invade my senses. I want subtlety. These aren’t my only reasons.
In fact, I think I’ll list all the reasons I’m quitting cigarettes so that I can look back and remember just why I quit.
I want to be able to run faster.
I want to be able to dance longer.
I want to breathe better.
I want to live longer.
I want my skin to be brighter, and clearer.
I want to go on airplanes without stressing about the next smoke.
I want to eat at restaurants regardless of their smoking policy.
I want to have more energy.
I want to be healthy.
I want to sing better.
I want to laugh without coughing.
I want to sleep without coughing.
I want to breathe without coughing.
I want to be a role model, for my sister and brother.
I want to be conscious of the fact that I am alive, and worth taking care of.
I want white teeth.
I want white nails.
I want to love myself, and do what is best for me.
Here are a list of things I do not want that could/probably will happen if I do not quit.
I do not want any sort of cancer related to smoking: including cancer of the mouth, voice box (larynx), throat (pharynx), esophagus, bladder, kidney, pancreas, cervix, stomach, and some leukemias.
I do not want Saucy or Kitty to get any sort of smoking related disease from my second hand smoke.
I do not want to be an old scraggly woman sucking down cigarettes.
I do not want wrinkles.
I do not want lung diseases like emphysema and chronic bronchitis.
I do not want to have a stroke, heart attack, or blood clots in my legs.
I do not want to create more litter with cigarette butts.
I do not want to cause others harm from second hand smoke.
I do not want to continue hurting myself.
I do not want to live my life experiencing two of my favorite senses in a half assed way- taste and smell.
I’d intended upon quitting after a little vacation I’m planning with Angel PIe for her birthday. I booked us a cruise, 5 days down to mexico, and had a fantasy about standing at the front of the boat, smoking a cigarette while out on the sea, while the wind blew in my hair. Upon looking at the travel brochure, I realized its a non smoking boat. There are designated smoking areas for those who are truly addicted, and man I don’t want to come out of my room, get in an elevator, walk to some little area of the boat where a line is drawn in a box, the area in which I am designated to smoke. The days of smoking being a free thing are gone. Besides, at a pack and a half a day, I’m spending roughly $9/day on smokes. Just retarded. In fact, I’ve spent somewhere around $25,000 on cigarettes in my lifetime, varying from a pack to two packs a day, and that is just a ton of money to be coughing up. Literally.
So today is day two. Day 2 in the biggest challenge yet. Quitting something I’ve been doing my entire adult life, on an hourly basis. Saying goodbye to twenty little friends that always had my back, that would stick by me no matter what, even if they got wet, they’d dry and be there. Saying goodbye to a lifestyle that no longer suits me. Saying goodbye and fuck off to my last vice.
Thank god for the patch and straws cut down to cigarette size. Otherwise there would be some punched up kitties around my hood….